#Lady Gotham is not amused

[flamingpudding]

Summoning Gone Wrong

Ties to: Ouija Board Prompt and Ghost Hunting Vigilantes Part 1 / Part 2

A/N: Thanks to @lazy-alex for commenting the base idea in Ghost Hunting Vigilantes for Tim trying to do a summoning that just goes wrong~

Danny calmly sipped the ecto-tea and resisted eyeing the ghost club Lady Gotham had placed next to her as she also drank her tea with all the elegance the spirit possessed. The Ghost King was pretty sure she had placed it like that, in his view, on purpose. He just wasn't sure if it was as a warning or as a preparation since the last couple of times he had been in Gotham, she had felt the need of using it against him.

"I am very glad that you are finally looking into that matter, your highness." The spirit commented, placing the cup back onto the table and refilling it. "I wasn't sure if you had been made aware of it before, if I had known that the old beings had not mentioned it to you before I certainly would have sooner."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, about that. What are these Lazarus Pits anyway? Clockwork only told me to look out for the color green, which is not helpful. And Pandora started on an entire history lesson regarding Lazarus and I am pretty sure that has nothing to do with these Pits your 'knights' mentioned."

Lady Gotham chuckled amused with mirth in her eyes. "They are only known as Lazarus Pits in the human world, my king, not in the Infinite Realms."

"So what…" Danny couldn't finish his question as his ghost sense went off. He really wanted to slam his head into the table. It had been months since his senses went off like that and he hoped it was just Cujo who followed him or Fright Knight. But as no one appeared to interrupt them, he got ticked off because that meant it was one of his former rogues who was up to something. He excused himself from his discussion with Lady Gotham who appeared even more amused than before.

Whoever it was he would send them straight back to the Ghost Zone, they were interrupting some important kingly business here!

A little earlier not too far away from the ghostly discussion, by a recent regularly vigilante visited occult site, three vigilantes stood before a summoning cycle.

Red Robin was crouching by the circle, chalk in hand as he drew runes and symbols on the ground all according to one of his research papers that summed up all the information he had gathered. Including information he had obtained from the Justice League Dark, mainly Constantine since the man owned him and wouldn't just tell on him, behind Batman's back.

It had been weeks since their last encounter with the teenage ghost. He didn't want to admit it but Red Robin was getting worried about the ghost. Both times when they left they sounded like something was hunting or hurting them and last time there was even that green swirly thing they saw for a short moment right after they had heard the ghost say their goodbyes with an actual voice. Besides, that ghost was a mystery to them and Red Robin wasn't known to leave any sort of mystery they encountered unsolved.

"Should we really do this without B?" Nightwing asked, eyeing the strange symbols the youngest among them was drawing on the ground.

"Fuck him. If we get him involved we wouldn't be doing this at all." Red Hood added crossing his arms. "I am more surprised that its only us three this time. I would have bet that at least one of the others would have joined too."

"Baby Bat is out on a mission with B. Spoiler and Orphan are on a outer space mission and Signal has an exam tomorrow." Nightwing shrugged. "It's probably better form Robin not to be here. He was pretty spooked after the last two times."

"Ha! Spooked? The kid is dead set on Pit Demons trying to kill us."

"We can't comple-"

"Finished the writing." Red Robin cut in dusting his gloves from chalk, he was still kneeling on the ground as he turned to the older two vigilantes holding his hands out expectantly. "Nightwing, you brought the candles?"

The vigilante in question handed over a plastic back with the label of a gas station. Red Hood titled his head in question, indicating that he was raising an eye brow under his helmet. The elder only shrugged sheepishly as Red Robin stared at the colorful duck candles it contained.

"I forgot you asked me to buy some and went last minute to the late night open counter gas station. They only had these colorful duck candles."

"Well our fucking ghost has some Humor. Might work better for them then."

Red Robin only sighed but still placed the candles in the circle the way Constantine had described to him. "We will have to see if this will work."

He had made sure to also draw up a protective circle around the summoning one just like Zatana had instructed and Constantine had insisted he would need. Lighting up the candles he stepped back next to his brothers.

"So according to Constantine, we are now supposed to recite a summoning spell and think about the ghost we talked to before to call them back to us."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"So…" Red Robin distributed a piece of paper to each of his brothers. "We start on three."

"One…."

"Wait let me read that shit first!"

"Two…"

"Slow down, little bird."

"Three."

The three of them definitely were not in sync. Nightwing struggled with some of the words while Red Hood ended up mixing in some chosen curse words when he stumbled over a word. Red Robin even though he had practiced before still struggled with some of the words also but still all three managed to get through the incarnation.

They waited with their breaths held for something to happen but the seconds ticked by, with nothing happening. After three minutes Red Robin let out a sigh, deciding that this was a failure.

Just as he was about to step up to the circle to blow out the candles, a green swirling portal like the one he had briefly seen last time opened on the ground where the summoning circle was and a figure rose up from it. The figure was entirely dressed in white with black gloves, boots, belt and hat. Their skin was just as white as the clothes they were wearing and the being was staring back at them with completely green eyes, no irises or pupils. They stood firmly and straight in the summoning circle, arms crossed behind their back and by the way they were holding themself appeared like an authority figure.

"That doesn't look like a 16 years old ghost." Red Hood commented, his hand resting on his gun holder as he stared down their summon.

"Red, you did follow all the instructions right." Nightwing asked his hands, also moving to take out his escrima sticks, eying the being that was now looking at them in what he assumed was contempt.

"Yes, I did." Turning to their summon the vigilantes eyed it carefully. "Hi, sorry about the sudden summon. You obviously aren't the 16 years old ghost we had been talking to before. So uhm, you are free to go again? Unless you happen to know a 16 year old ghost that had been to Gotham at least two times now?"

The summoned being didn't look like they were going to answer, instead they took out a green glowing book that had 'RULES' written on it and leafed through the pages. Stopping when it apparently found a certain page. Their eyes focusing on the page then back at them. Still not grazing them with an answer. Red Robin however noticed how their inclined their head, for a short moment, over to Red Hood before turning back to the book and turning a couple of more pages.

He hadn't been the only one as he felt Nightwing tensing next to him too as well as heard the soft click of Red Hood removing the safety from his gun.

"Unauthorized summoning with out of date summoning methods. Interruption of security works. Unauthorized usage of corrupted ectoplasmic waste and apparent coverup of a human infected by corrupted ectoplasm." The being listed and the three couldn't help but feel reminded of a policeman listing crimes.

"I, Walker, reappointed Warden by his majesty the Ghost King and self appointed head chief of the security department of the Infinite Realms, hereby declare all of you under arrest for the previously listed offenses. Especially you, punk." The ghost called Walker pointed at Red Hood who in return pulled out his guns pointing them back at it. "You will be presented directly to our King. To think there would be a subject that failed to report back their existence."

"The fuck you wanna do? I ain't going anywhere." Red Hood scoffed, his distorted voice sounding challenging towards the ghost.

"Not to be rude but how can he report something he didn't even know about." Nightwing added eying the ghost as well as the protective barrier. The being hadn't made a move toward them yet and it should keep it contained but that didn't mean they just could let their guard down, not like he would let them take any of his brothers anywhere either. He took a step forward in case he needed to cover his younger siblings, protectiveness stirring in him. "RR, did Constantine or Zatana give you a spell to forcefully send them back?"

"Not exactly but they said destroying the summoning circle should send them back instantly." Red Robin mused after glancing at his notes for a brief moment. He didn't dare look away from that ghost for longer than needed. Normally he would be thrilled about having summoned a ghost and probably ask it a bunch of questions he had, ever since their first encounter with that 16 years old ghost left him with a tone of unanswered ones, but not with this one.

"Maybe we should-"

"WALKER! NOT AGAIN! BACK TO THE ZONE NOW!" A white haired 16 years old looking flying boy appeared through the wall without destroying it like he just phased in. The three vigilantes stared at the new presence that looked rather ticked off. The teenager had a cosmic with green flame outlined looking crown floating over their head and were wearing a jumpsuit with a logo that looked like a flaming D.

"Hey could that be our little ghost bastard?" Hood more or less stage-whispered over to Nightwing and Red Robin.

"Looks 16, maybe younger but not like what I imagined." Nightwing mused.

"Ghost Kid -ahem- your Highness, perfect Timing. I was just about to apprehend-"

"No." The teenager interrupted, arms crossed as he floated before the other ghost. "We went over this when I appointed you as the Warden again. Back. To. The. Zone."

"Did… did that other ghost call him 'highness' just now?" The more he got to learn about ghosts the more questions appeared to come up and Red Robin would definitely need answers for all of them.

"Your Highness, we need to-"

"Back now!" The teen repeated as he moved his left arm to point at a portal he opened especially for Walker. "Or do I have to get Lady Gotham to kick you out of her haunt herself?"

Red Robin watched how the two ghosts appeared to have a stare down before the white one closed his rule book and bowed before leaving. Well he would have left if he didn't smack right into the protective wall the vigilante had set up before the summoning. Good to know that Constantine's advice worked.

"Pff - cough -" The teenager covered his mouth, hiding a laugh behind a cough as he closed the portal he had opened and reopened it inside the barrier. The white ghost only sent them the most disgruntled and offended glare Red Robin had seen in a while before going through the portal the teen had opened.

Before either of the three could say anything the teenager let out a sigh and muttered something about having to deal with Walker being naggingly annoying about security and summonings later again. As if noticing them for the first time the boy glanced over at them and instantly stiffed and Red Robin definitely saw recognition in the boy's glowing green eyes. Could it be...?

"Shit." The teenager cursed. Yup, that's him.

"You are-"

"Sorry, no time for talking, gotta get back to Lady Gotham." They interrupted before continuing to ramble on. "You don't really want to make an old spirit with a ghost club wait. You guys better forget what you saw here. I would like Man In Black wipe your memory if I could but well for now please don't attempt summoning like that again? Summonings like that are outdated and barely work correctly for us ghosts. Demon summonings are a different matter but for ghosts this won't work correctly anymore or at least not since I got the stupid crown. You either end up with some random ghost or Walker trying to arrest humans. I soo have enough of getting him back from all the attempts of arresting humans that broke 'summoning rules'. Maybe I should have Fright Night arrest Walker for forcing his summon whenever he notices human summons… Anyway! Don't try again. Okay? Okay. Thanks and bye!"

The boy blinked out of existence before any of them could get a word in. The three vigilantes stared at the now empty spot. Red Robin had so many more additional questions now after having heard the presumed ghost teens ramble. So if the summons from the Justice League Dark were outdated then maybe he would need to find a more modern summoning? Also the teen had mentioned a Lady Gotham and Red Robin could only assume that that had to be their local city's spirit judging by the name.

"Well… we know now what our ghost boy looks like." Nightwing offered after some time and Red Hood scoffed.

"How the fuck was that boy a ghost? He looked more like a meta kid than a ghost."

"Well judging by the voice he definitely was the one that talked the last two times."

"So Demon Brat's Pit Demon theory is true?"

"He didn't lo-"

"I am going to try and summon this Lady Gotham next." Red Robin cut in as he turned on his heel, determined to get to the bottom of this ghost mystery even if he had to pester the JLD members for a while.

""What?""

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tim drake #jason todd #richard grayson #dpxdc #Ghost summonings #ghost king danny #failed summoning #Walker joins the Frey #He wants to arrest the bats #Danny is not amused #He has king duties to deal with #Lady Gotham is nice this time #will jason get arrested by walker? #Tim is determined #Ouija board continuation #dp x dc #fanfic #crossover #dcxdp #dp x dc fic #no beta wie die like danny

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

AU where Jason comes back to Gotham and begins his plan to confront Batman and all that. Except after only like a week the Joker gets hit by a bus and then shot by a little old lady with a shotgun and dies.

Jason’s plan is now in shambles because the dramatic climax of his plan is no longer possible. But that’s fine. He’ll think of some other suitable alternative. Granted, it’s not quite the same if he uses some other villain. Making Batman choose doesn’t mean nearly as much when it’s not about the person who killed him.

And really, is he going to try and get Batman to kill Black Mask or something? Scarecrow? Red Hood is competent; he could do it himself so why bother.

So Jason lays low continues to build his criminal empire with astounding speed and efficiency. If only he could think of a good way to announce his return. Nothing he can think of is dramatic enough.

Meanwhile, the Bats are freaking out because who is this guy that’s taken over half of the Gotham underworld in like a month? He’s obviously trained, but they just can’t seem to get any information on who he is or where he came from. It is beyond frustrating.

After a few months Jason is frustrated that he just can’t seem to find any dramatic good way of making Batman prove himself. It has to be something big! Something magnificent!

During his weekly chat with Talia he complains about his problems and she suggests he come back for a visit. He argues that he can’t just leave, but she says if he has competent enough lieutenants it’d be fine. He spends the next three weeks making sure that everything will be fine if he leaves for a week. He will not have all of his hard work falling apart and going to waste due to incompetence. Absolutely not.

So then once his lieutenants are sufficiently prepared (and the rest of Gotham’s criminal element sufficiently cowed), he heads to Nanda Parbat, only to find Ra’s on the phone with Bruce, who is demanding to know if the Red Hood has any affiliation with the league.

Oh. Oh. He can give them affiliation.

A new plan begins to form.

He’s going to be the most affiliated he can be. Jason immediately goes to Talia with his newest plan: Overthrow Ra’s and takeover the league. Talia whips out her forty step outline for overthrowing Ra’s and tells Jason she’s so proud of him.

Jason has a new goal now, so he gets to work. He checks on things in Gotham, but everything seems to be fine and there haven’t been any unplanned explosions so it should be fine if he stays here for a bit.

Taking over Gotham really was good practice, as it turns out. Thanks to Talia’s plans and previous foundational efforts the takeover happens in no time.

Meanwhile the bats are still freaking out. Red Hood hasn’t been seen in three weeks, he may or may not have league of assassins connections, and even in his absence his goons seem to be managing things competently.

Back in Nanda Parbat, Jason and Talia finish their takeover. And now, finally, he’s ready to confront Batman.

He arrives in Gotham as the new head of the league. His arrival is loud, elaborate, and dramatic enough to fulfill his inner theater kid’s dreams.

Batman is speechless. And not his usual grunts instead of words, but actual surprised speechless. Jason is alive?!?!?!?

Jason was not expecting all the tears. And hugs. And mother henning. Goodness gracious, this was not part of the plan.

Bruce is obviously struggling with Jason’s revelation that he took over the league, but the newest little birdie seems almost relieved at that(?) and Dick and Alfred both seem strangely proud. Whatever. Even Bruce seems to be at least mostly ignoring that for now.

Then someone asks him if he knows Red Hood. Jason blinks. Says that yeah, he knows Red Hood. Everyone seems to ease at that. One mystery solved. Jason quickly realizes that most of them have no idea he is Red Hood. Cass seems to be the only exception but also appears amused and willing enough to not mention it.

Dramatic appearance complete, Jason now has a new goal: see how long he can keep the bats (minus Cass and potentially Alfred) in the dark about his crime boss identity.

He will bribe Cass as much as it takes to keep her on board with the causing chaos plan, but she seems eager enough. Favorite sibling status definitely unlocked. (The whole killing thing is fought over at great length and a truce of sorts is eventually made)

David Cain is never heard from again.

Damian shows up at some point.

At least one league member has suddenly found themselves as an HR rep for Gotham criminals? They’re still not quite sure how that happened.

#Jason takes over the league of assassins #because it’s the most dramatic option available #jason todd #red hood #theater kid Jason Todd #batfam #talia al ghul #batman #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #ra’s al ghul #league of assassins #Jason comes back au #what do you mean dc doesn’t stand for disregard canon

[hughmanbean]

How Do You Do, Fellow Humans?

Now, Fright Knight is a very experienced ghost. He's served millennia, gone through the whole ordeal that was Pariah Dark, tolerated the Observants, and generally has a large area of competence.

But perhaps he should expand his skillset.

As he was guarding an outing of the Royal family, his Queen had inquired of his pastimes. He had answered with his duties.

"I mean, you should definitely get out some more, dude. Chill a bit. Not in the Far Frozen sense."

The Princess had agreed, saying that traveling would be quite the eye opening experience for him

His Queen assured him that the royal family could suffice without his presence "for a year or two, just make sure to visit."

So the Knight of Autumn sets out to find a mortal settlement that will work. He comes across Gotham City and its respective city spirit, Lady Gotham. She graciously invites him in, and he vows to remember her contribution. She merely gives an amused smile.

Within Gotham City, Fright Knight comes across a mortal woman controlling plant life, and even if subconsciously, follows her due to the familiarity to another ghost the Queen had "known."

She has a rendezvous with another mortal woman, and they go inside a house/haunt that radiates their love. Fright Knight stands outside of it for a week straight, attempting to deduce a way for him to meet them.

Harley, on the other hand, had just opened the door at like, 2:48 in the morning and her hyenas shoot straight out the door and around the house, barking. They jump around the legs of- a giant suit of armor? Really? Just staring at the wall, is it?

Gotham, truly, is delightful.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #Guess who? That right! #fright knight #good parents jack and maddie #queen mother danny phantom #poison ivy #harley quinn #fright knight does NOT have a mortal form #Giant disembodied suit of armor he will stay #If you want to continue this be my guest!

[msfantasy-comics]

The Family Meet and Greet

Damian Wayne x Reader

Request/Summary: Hey hun! I wanted to send in a request for Damian Wayne x reader. Maybe reader being introduced to the family/the family finding out about them?

A/n: Honestly I can’t tell if the picture is Tim or Damian.

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Damian is a pretty private person and doesn’t intend to do an awkward meet and greet with his beloved girlfriend.

He knew that all of his family members would find out one way or another anyway.

Dick Grayson:

It wouldn’t take a genius detective to know that Damian is asking for advice for his love life.

Damian sits in his hero costume, hunched over as his legs dangle over the side of the building. His eyes evade Dicks, a red hue spreading across the tips of his ears.

A soft smile embellishes Dicks lips as he sees his younger brother whom is typically egocentric, now looking timid and shy for the first time ever.

“So my friend started seeing someone recently and he had this dilemma on if he should keep seeing her or not because on one hand he has all this baggage he doesn’t want to burden her with and on the other hand he just can’t bring himself to break things off with her.”

“So this girl your seeing-“ Damian’s eyes bulge, snapping his neck towards Dick, acting too defensively.

“Ugh, are you not listening Grayson? I said it’s about my friend.”

“Right, right, I forgot. My bad…” Dick think’s carefully on his words. “Sounds like your friend is a classic over-thinker. Relationships are far from logical, it’s all based on feelings. It might be hard for your friend, but just enjoy it for what it is.” Damian sits and stares off over the Gotham skyline looking unconvinced. “Look Dames, there is no right answer. Just do what feels right.”

Leaning back into his palms he stares in amusement at his beloved younger brother continues pining in anguish.

“So… how long do we keep pretending that we aren’t talking about you? Can I see a picture?” Damian rolls his eyes with a sigh, sliding his phone out of his pocket, he taps on the screen silently before shoving his phone into Dicks hands.

There laid the image a happy couple. Damian’s arms wrapped around your shoulder. The dark city filtering behind the brightly lit couple, forever captured in permanent laughter.

Dick, initially keen to tease the cheesy photo before him, now silent in pure aw to see the genuine smile, Damian’s eyes lit in adoration.

“Do not tell anyone Grayson. I will share the news when I am ready.”

Tim Drake:

The little rat has been acting rather odd.

Tim tried talking about it to Dick but he just kept evading his questions by pathetically redirecting his attention with someone else’s random drama.

They’re both acting weird and secretive, and there is no way Tim is going to be kept out of such an intriguing mystery.

Usually Tim would just stalk his targets, but this is Damian we are talking about. It is incredibly difficult, if not impossible to track Damian without him noticing. Starting with Damian’s social media, Tim pin points all of the photo locations and begins to visit each site one at a time. He hacks the local cameras and reviews the footage from around the date the photo was uploaded.

Low and behold, footage of Damian smooshing his face into another ladies face….

Whelp, Tim was certainly not expecting to see such a DISGUSTING display of affection. YUCK.

He didn’t even know the rat could even feel those types of feelings.

Tim, now laying on his bed cuddled up to a pillow is looking… traumatised.

Sometimes, it’s better just not to know.

Barbara Gordon

No freaking way.

Barbara could not believe her very eyes.

When completing a Internet background check on the Wayne family to scrub any suspicious allegations or accusations, Babs found the Holy Grail of finds.

An account with a mysterious woman with months worth of photos with the Wayne’s local angsty brat, Damian Freaking Wayne.

When completing a generic photo match search. Lovey, dovey poses with Damian and a girl by the name Y/n flashed up on the screen.

This is juicy! To tell Bruce or not to tell Bruce, that is the question.

Jason Todd

Disgusting. Absolutely foul.

It’s a random Tuesday evening when Jason jumps roof tops only to discover a couple making out all hot and heavy.

Their bodies tangling together as the man rips his shirt off. The girl sliding her hands along his abdomen before landing on his belt buckle.

The man then slides his hands from the back of her neck to her ass, giving it a needy grope before sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, lifting the woman with ease and pressing her against the wall.

This is hilarious, they have no idea Gothams most infamous Vigilante has caught them about to get down and dirty on Gothams roof top.

Jason sat down and ate his figurative pop-corn in humourous delight, until his eyes adjust.

“Ain’t no FUCKING way!” Jason yells, humours delight now churning into a disturbed nausea. He swallowed the bile raising up in his throat.

Pulling out his phone he calls Damian. Panting breaths filter through the phone, only furthering Jason’s disgust.

“What?! I’m in the middle of-“

“I know what your in the middle of you sick bastard! Take it indoors!” The line goes quite for just a moment. “Little freak, your family patrols the roof tops you know, ugh, I can’t - I’m having a flash back to Selina and Bru- ugh I’m gonna vomit.”

Duke

“Finally!” Duke announces, hoping over the back of the couch and sprawling out on the soft cushions of the plush couch. Without a second to spare Duke switches the TV on to watch the latest episode of his favourite show.

“Thomas-“

“No talking!” Duke wholesomely announces, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My phone… forget it.” Damian grumbles, seeing Dukes eyes glued to the TV. Squishing further into the cushions, Duke feels the uncomfortable poke of a hard object pressing into his rib.

Wrenching the wretched object from its place, Duke holds a phone. His haphazard fingers pressing into the screen which lights up and shows the text of a person named Y/n.

Y/n: Can’t wait for our date tonight, I miss your handsome face xx

Dukes cheeks heats up, seeing a private message he shouldn’t have seen. Damian is incredibly private and may murder Duke for accidentally learning something he wasn’t suppose to.

Wiping any evidence of his fingers touching the phone Duke places the phone back between the cushions.

Best if he just abandons his show for now for a tactical retreat.

Bruce Wayne

God, why are his kids so weird?

Seriously? Out of all 20 of them, not a single one was normal…

Sitting at the head of the dinner table, he watches his children talk amoungst themselves in weird cryptic speeches.

“Do you know what I know?” Tim asks intensely, the broccoli wedged on his fork, pointing at Dick, who stares back wide-eyed.

“I don’t know anything … why what do you know?” Dick says scanning the rest of the room to see if they somehow knew what Dick was referring to.

“I can’t share what I know, but just know it. Is. Juicy.” Babs announces with a sly and taunting grin.

“I don’t know anything, I didn’t even want to see it. Oh god, I’m feeling queasy.” Jason says crossing his arms over his stomach.

“IDidntSeeAnythingEither.” Duke announces quickly, and begins to quickly Hoover his dinner.

Damian sighs, massaging his temples at his idiotic siblings.

“So I take it that you have all found out about Y/n?” Bruce asks calmly, slowly sawing into the plump steak on his plate.

The room falls dead silent as all heads turn towards Bruce, surprised that he knew and surprised that he had the guts to say what everyone else was thinking.

“Father, how do you know about Y/n?”

“… I’m Batman.”

#dc imagine #dc x reader #batboys #batboys imagine #batboys x reader #Damian Wayne x reader #Damian x reader #Robin x reader #Damian Wayne imagine #Damian imagine

[dcxdpdabbles]

the photo au just has me thinking that lady gotham is shipping dead tired and i love it

(it's a change of pace from her shipping dead on main so that's cool too)

"King Phantom," Danny jumps, not expecting the raspy voice to call from the dark alley he was passing. He turns his gaze to the shadows, squinting as a woman made entirely of smoke and tar takes form, towering over him like the skyscrapers of her city.

His head barely reaches the knees of her dark grey dress. Her outline flickers in the air as if she is nothing but the smoke of a flickering candle about to be blown away.

Despite her aristocracy beauty- her high cheekbones, her smooth skin, and lovely dark curls that fall along her shoulders- her presence inspires a terrible amount of dread.

Around him, people continue to walk by, unable to see her but sensing her all the same. Danny quickly moves off the street, entering the alley of darkness- at once, the city's noise is silenced while the two power ghosts are muted in a safe little bubble.

"Lady Gotham," He greets, bowing his head slightly. It's not quite a nod, for that would be too dismissive of a noble lady, but it's not a complete bow, for that would mean she is higher ranked than he.

"How are you enjoying my domain, your majesty?" Lady Gotham breathes her voice, sending chills down his spine.

"It's lovely. My sister and I are truly enjoying exploring it. I particularly enjoy photographing the scenary." He says, keeping the unease out of his voice. Her black-painted lips pull upwards into a smirk as if amused by his attempt at diplomacy.

If there is one thing Danny has learned, it is that while he is the King Of Ghosts, that doesn't mean he has absolute power- politically wise. Many entities have domains for centuries that have, through those years, earned nobility status among the ghosts.

He couldn't just scorn the noble ghosts. Even Pariah Dark- the most potent ghost of all time- was defeated the first time when the nobles- later renamed Ancients- banned together to take him down.

Lady Gotham was not among those Ancients, but Danny knew she could quickly call upon her allies and dethrone him just as easily. If Danny is a King, she would be the Queen of a neighboring kingdom just gearing up for war if he fumbles his manners.

"Is it truly the scenery that catches your fancy? Surely, there are far prettier things to look at in my domain?" Lady Gotham's voice is soft, like the humming of a gentle river.

Danny blinks, thrown by the question. "I can't say I understand, my Lady. What pretty things do you speak of?"

She flips open a fan, hiding half of her face as her black coal eyes stare at him with an appraising glint.

Above them, a hiss of a grappling hook springs out, and Red Robin flips over their heads in pursuit of a fleeing car. Danny's finger twitched with the huge to pull out his camera and finally get a meme-worthy shot of the teenager.

Alas, he can not do so, for he is speaking to a ghost noble who could use his careless behavior against him at the next afterlife high society meeting.

Lady Gotham's eyes crinkle in amusement. "I speak of what I find amusing but what others find shocking. What can be entertaining but others call fascinating. After all, trying to capture one's faults is where true beauty is found."

Danny fights to keep his face pleasant even if he has no idea what she means. She speaks in riddles, at least. That's what it sounds like to him.

He should introduce her to Clockework. They would have a good time talking in circles around each other.

"That's an interesting outlook, my lady." He settles on. She hums, then snaps her fingers. In front of Danny, a paper appears, floating in swirls of smoke.

"My King, I have existed long before humans found this plot of land and bestowed the name Gotham onto me. Yet I find myself lacking in any solid evidence of my precious people. I can interact with their world, but I can never truly step into it. Especially the Waynes. They have done so much for me through generations, and I can't even greet them properly." Lady Gotham's words may sound sad, but her tone only implies amusement. Danny is instantly weary. "I was wondering if I could ask that you- the bridge between both worlds- would do me a favor to remedy this."

The paper floats closer, and on it, Danny can see it is an invention for the Wayne Charity Gala. His name is printed on the guest list, asking that he join them for his donations to the art programs around the city.

Danny never made such donations because the Fenton's are far from wealthy enough to do so. Lady Gotham was behind this, as she could interact with the world but not the humans. Getting money for the programs under his name would be child's play.

He couldn't say no, per the norms of high society, and he knows she is well aware of this. Lady Gotham has cornered him.

"What is the favor, My Lady?" He asks, pocketing the invitation even though his insides are twisting.

"I only ask for a photo of each current Wyanes." She says, her voice now the sound of falling rain on the city. "Each photo should be the of them individually, for it will be what I display in my lair as their portraits."

Oh, she just wants pictures? Danny could do that!

"Of course." He says, smiling easily up at her. "I shall have that done for you."

"Excellent. I shall await the gala with anticipation."

Danny leaves the alley wondering if he will have a suit nice enough for the event. He'll have to contact Kitty- she was raising fashion designer before her untimely death on Johnny's bike- surely she will know what to dress him in.

He wanders around the city for a few hours, trying to get better shots of the buildings and accidentally getting one of Nightwing mid-sneeze. He giggles at the camera, unaware of Lady Gotham sitting in her haunt in the dark clouds above the city, standing over a three-dimensional model of Gotham City and covered in figures of real-life citizens currently residing in her town.

"Hmmm, Jason hasn't had an embarrassing photo today," She mutters, pushing the figure of Red Hood in front of King Phantom's glowing figurine's path. Her gaze falls on Red Robin- her little Tim- as it moves across the city following the live model's movement.

His figure is also glowing, not nearly as brightly as the King's, but the fact it shares the King's glow means the King has unknowingly claimed him.

She hopes that pushing them together in his civilian forms will allow the two to realize their hearts have been given to one another.

"How romantic." She sighs, floating onto her stomach and kicking her feet. "A King in love with a Knight. Society pushes them apart, but their love will conquer all."

"Sister, must you behave in such a childish manner?" A voice cuts in, and Lady Gotham's face twitches. She turns her head to watch her brother's shift between adult and child.

"Brother. What brings you here?" She asks, unbothered by his comment.

"Can I not visit my dearest little sister?" Clockwork asks, reaching over for a one-sided hug. She returns it with a smirk. "Especially when she messes with the life of the King."

"I do not know what you speak of." She huffs, turning her head back to the humans on her board. Around her, thousands and thousands of miniature models appear as she watches everything that is meant to be for the humans.

"Karma, you know better than to interfere with King Phantom's life, especially if it's something as silly as his love life-"

"Ah ah, brother dearest. You are in charge of time, and I control fate. " She grins. "I can guarantee that they are fated to be. I know it."

Clockwork rolls his eyes, shifting into an old man. "You let humans call you Lady Gotham. I highly doubt you know anything."

She hums, grinning as King Phantom's figure drops into a crouch, pointing a mini camera at Red Robin. Quickly, she leans forward to adjust the vigilante in an alluring position, knowing it will cause the King's heart to flutter when he develops the photos.

Clockwork clicks his tongue. "Honestly, don't you have anything better to do?"

"You should leave your tower more often, Brother. Maybe you could find a date and not nag your younger sister constantly." She taps her lips. "That young John Constinune was rather interested in you-"

"I am leaving!"

She laughs. "You can't run away from fate, brother!"

"Watch me!"

Oh, she plans to; after all, what is more amusing to fate than to see people try to defy her? Either they succeed, which is fascinating to watch them conquer all her trials, or they fail, which is entertaining enough to watch them fumble.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #Danny and the fan blog #Part 3 #Lady Gotham is Karma's online persona #Ghosts have high society. #Danny is very new to it so he doesn't have much power even with his throne #Karma is the ghost in charge of Fate #She ships Dead Tired

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Danny inherited an abandoned amusement park from his estranged uncle on his mom's side after he passed. The man barely had any contact with the family because he hated Jack. Danny needed something to do after the space program he was working for letting him go for having a "heart murmer" after he had flown a handful of missions. Danny didn't really want to worry his family back in Amity and he was really starting to fit in around Gotham as the local weird space guy so Danny headed to the park right outside Gotham to see if he can use his funds from the royal vault to fund the repairs and reopening of Happy Hollows Fun Park, a forest themed amusement park with a colorful cast of characters

Happy Hare

Sally skunk

Flora Fawn

Ted. E. Bear

Wally Wolf

Phoebe Fox

Olly Opossum

Bethany Bluejay

Danny gets several ghosts to help fix the park, Technus is in charge of rewiring the entire park, Walker manages the progress on the reconstruction, Box ghost is in charge of prop repair, Lunch lady gets put in charge of fixing up the restaurants in the park, Youngblood helps with updated the characters since the park was originally open from 1950 to 1978 without updating the character designs. Danny also hires actually people to help out, mainly folks that had been involved in goon work and wanted to try making an honest living. He uses a little magic so the ghosts look human. Skulker gets hired as on site security as well. Danny builds a walk through attraction as an in park museum.

The bats get suspicious when Danny drags a very injured Joker back to Arkham after the psycho clown tried to fill his park with laughing gas because Danny apparently stole quite a few of his goons

.

#daily prompt #dc x dp #dp x dc #fic prompt #funny

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt: Danny goes to Gotham and meets a dead Robin.

There are options for ways to approach an unfamiliar ghost–especially a baby ghost, and from the look of him Robin can’t be more than three or four years dead, if that–but since Robin is a superhero, Danny takes the obvious one. He sticks Tucker’s ghost-proof GPS into his chest or a pocket dimension or some cross between the two and then he glides down through Gotham’s smog and starlight and lets the invisibility and intangibility drop to give the kid a light little greeting swat. Very light–it only knocks Robin halfway across the roof he’s racing across. Which might be a little patronizing, but sue him, the kid is tiny. 

Lady Gotham croons, mournful and adoring, and her Robin tumbles through a roll and pops up alertly out of the bat-winged shadows that surround him, doing a perfect flip to land right on top of one of the gargoyles at the edge of the roof. His eyes are wide and white-lensed behind the domino mask, and the moment he sees Danny he laughs. 

stranger stranger, careful careful, gonna tell my daaaaad, Robin’s core sing-songs, bright and shiny and secure in that threat, and Danny’s mouth quirks in wry amusement. Yeah, definitely a baby ghost. But it’s nice to see Batman’s kid feels safe with him even dead; is still confident in his protection no matter what. Apparently Batman is a little more down with ghosts and spirits than Danny’s own parents started out, but really, of course he is. He is Lady Gotham’s boytoy, after all. 

show me what you’ve got, Danny hums back through his own core–the traditional ghost-introduction for any haunt, even with a baby ghost. Honestly, it’s more impressive a ghost this young has a haunt, but given how thoroughly Lady Gotham’s favor surrounds him, it’s not exactly a surprise either. 

Danny’s surprised Robin ever managed to die at all, though, considering how much Lady Gotham loves him. 

Robin springs forward across the roof and Danny side-steps his attack and tries to trip him, but Robin flips right over his leg sweep and throws a fistful of–what are they, batarangs, Danny guesses? batarangs, sure–right at his face. Danny goes intangible because he just does not have the reflexes to dodge that from this close, but the second he phases back in gets a double kick to the gut. 

Robin is definitely a trained fighter, yeah. A trained fighter with experience. 

Nice, Danny thinks, and grins as he zaps a tangle of tiny ecto-blasts at the kid in playful mimicry of those batarangs of his. Robin cartwheels out of the way and then darts in low and leaps up into Danny’s face. 

Very nice. 

Danny inspects Robin’s core thoughtfully as the kid tries to roundhouse-kick his head off his shoulders with another bright, cackling laugh, which is frankly adorable, and it’s actually really impressive? Like–Robin is a surprisingly strong ghost for his age, glowing with faith and shining like a beacon in the dark, and since Danny’s never heard anyone call him a ghost before, he’s gotta at least be strong enough to manifest in a way where he can pass for human when civilians and other heroes are around. 

Which, understandable, really. Danny would also not let anyone know his kid was a ghost if he were Batman, after the Anti-Ecto Acts debacle and how long that’s been taking to clean up. Tall Dark and Paranoid would never let the government know his baby was dead, with that kind of nonsense going on. 

He smashes the kid into the roof–gently, because he doesn’t want Batman getting the wrong idea if he’s in the area, but also not too gently because he doesn’t want to offend Robin by giving him the impression that he’s not taking him seriously. Robin yelps, then kicks him in the chest with both feet and actually knocks him back while simultaneously using him as a springboard to flip backwards and get some distance. 

Talk about parkour, damn. Danny really is impressed. 

not bad, he lets his core rumble approvingly, because Jazz has had some things to say about encouraging the baby ghosts–Jazz has a lot to say about encouraging the baby ghosts, in fact–and Robin’s thrums with laughter and delight and too slow too slow, keep up! Then the kid darts forward again, ducks under his arm, and twists around to elbow him in the back of the head. Danny lets out a snort of laughter and throws him off the roof. Robin laughs, and all those bat-winged shadows embrace him as he vanishes in a twist of the dark.

Not even the shadows. The dark. 

Danny is definitely impressed, yeah.

#wip: danny goes to gotham and meets a dead robin #dpxdc #long post

[magnoliasandarson]

the first gala

Jason was uncomfortable. His skin chafed against his stupid silk suit, his dumb tie was strangling him, and his shoes pinched his heels with every step. Worst of all- he was staring down at a crowd of Gotham's wealthiest- decked out in all their resplendent jewelry and finest clothes. It made him vaguely nauseous.

Bruce patted him on the shoulder, fingers clasping firmly for just a moment before swanning down the stairs, smiling broadly at his adoring army of socialites. It was a sickening sight. Just an hour prior, Bruce had sat with him, tied his tie, and told him what to expect. That he wouldn't be the same person at the Gala that he was when they read together. It made Jason's chest clench.

He carefully followed down the stairs, eyes locked firmly ahead, jaw clenched. Dick warned him that the snooty bastards would not be kind, that they wouldn't accept him. They hadn't accepted Dick at first, but his stupid smile and stupid charm eventually won the hearts of most of the stupid crowd. Jason exhaled deeply through his nose, he needed to stay calm.

Once he reached the main floor, his eyes strayed from their laser focus to find Bruce Brucie. The billionaire was playing his part remarkably well, an arm wrapped around a stunning blonde woman- the other gesturing with a half-empty champagne glass. The sight of Bruce downing the rest made Jason's stomach roll.

A withered hand gripped his shoulder and made him freeze in place. He followed the hand up and found the hooded eyes of one of the many rich old ladies that had popped up on Dick's PowerPoint. He distantly remembered a giant red circle and big black letters that said AVOID AT ALL COSTS.

"And what dumpster did Wayne pull you from, boy," a little bit of saliva passed her red painted lips, splattering onto Jason's face.

Jason felt a dark blush bloom across his face, turning his tan skin the color of a tomato. He shook the arm off and opened his mouth to respond, when another idiot materialized, "Leave the wretched thing alone, mother," the idiot smiled a stupid smile and Jason found himself wanting to punch those dumb perfect teeth in, "you know how sensitive Wayne gets about his charity cases."

Jason's upper lip curled up into a violent version of a grin; his ears were red, and his fists clenched. Venom pooled on his tongue but he curbed the desire to shout and curse, "I'll be goin' then."

The 'son' laughed that stupid rich fake laugh, his stupid gelled hair not moving a millimeter when he tossed his head back, "No no no, the other one did these delightful tricks," he swirled his glass of champagne, "why don't you do something amusing for us. Show us why Wayne rescued you from whatever hovel he pulled you from."

Jason felt more than saw the presence at his back, and all of a sudden, the gelled-haired idiot was on the floor, clutching his jaw with his champagne glass shattered next to him. Bruce smiled like he'd just read an article taking down Lex Luthor, "My apologies, Preston, Veronica," he shifted to partially obscure Jason, "my hand must have slipped."

And in that moment, watching an aristocrat spit blood onto the polished floor (those perfect teeth covered in red), Bruce's fine tailored suit protecting him like a shield, in a stunned silent room- Jason smiled a real smile for the first time that night.

#dc comics #dc universe #batman #jason todd #robin #batfam #bruce wayne #batfamily #brucie wayne #batman comics

[envysparkler]

idea that was prompted by the whump server: I’m a huge fan of the headcanon that Tim and Cass look very much alike despite not being related.  while this makes for great fun in imagining them taking on similar superhero names and costuming, there’s another great avenue that lies overlooked.

Tim and Cass as Robin and Batgirl.  simultaneously.  interchangeably.

it starts as a prank on Bruce and Babs.  their costumes are the same size and their coloring is similar enough to pass in the dark of Gotham.  they go four hours undiscovered--it’s not Bruce or Babs that figures it out, it’s some random criminal, who in the middle of being beaten up by Robin, squints and goes, “are you a girl?”

needless to say, Bruce and Babs are Not Amused.  Tim and Cass very much are.  and their little gremlin minds start to think about how far they can take this.

they redesign the costumes--with Alfred’s help--to look more androgynous.  Tim grows his hair out, Cass cuts it shorter.  criminals lose their shit.  they start dressing alike out of costume and Dick guesses wrong so many times, he gives up and just calls them both ‘duckling’.

Steph is the only one that can tell them apart with a single glance.  no one knows how.  she gives a different explanation every time someone asks.

the consequences balloon outwards.  everyone is afraid of messing with Robin and Batgirl because sometimes they’ll get defeated so easily it’s humiliating and sometimes their entire life is unraveled before their eyes.  Lady Shiva treats Tim like a surrogate son.  Ra’s is delighted to have found a worthy opponent-slash-successor that’s solved the apparent limitations of the human body.

but the most hilarious consequence of all--

when Hood busts into Titans Tower, Robin listens patiently to his monologue about all the ways Batman failed Gotham.  then takes Hood down the moment he makes that first punch.  and hugs him when he’s lying on the floor groaning.

“wrong,” Robin says.  “Bruce still loves you.”

(it takes Jason a week to realize that Tim and Cass are not the same person.)

(it takes Jason two weeks to realize that Tim and Cass are not identical twins.)

(it takes Jason several months to realize that Tim and Cass are not blood-related at all and even after he sees the results of the genetic tests, he still refuses to believe it.)

(Tim and Cass look at each other and shrug.  in synchrony.)

#fic ideas #tim&cass #tim and cass use their newfound ability for the noblest cause of all #being little shits

[lightwing-s]

15 and 18 with Jason?

It was one of those rare nights when the Red Hood didn’t come out, and in his place, boyfriend!Jason would take over.

Tonight, he had planned a whole date at a fancy restaurant, much to your surprise, as you rarely went on those, preferring much more a chill family thing to an over expensive, overcrowded and overrated four to five stars option.

Dressed to the nines, Jason almost gave up his plan entirely when you opened your apartment door to greet him, the high slit on the skirt of your black chiffon an invitation to dirtier, unholy thoughts. He kissed the back of your hand, treating you like a proper lady. Opening doors and holding them until you passed, helping you down the stairs, and overall being the perfect gentlemen.

Until traffic decided to ruin everything.

A once in a lifetime thing, Jason chose car over bike, and now you sat on the road, nearing the second hour in a dragged out traffic jam. Tapping the steering wheel incessantly, your boyfriend checked his designer watch, an accessory you’d never seen him wear before, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“... in Gotham City, home to rich history, an exciting art scene, excellent education…” chimed the lady on the radio.

“Oh yeah. Nothing to complain here.” your boyfriend mumbled, the gold ring on his pinky finger becoming a stress relief toy between his teeth.

“Oh, babe,” you sang, taking his other hand and intertwining your fingers. “Don’t worry about it, we can still have fun.”

“But I-I had this all planned out, for months. This restaurant has this really long waiting list and I’ve been trying to get reserv…”

You cut his frustrated rambling, placing a chaste kiss on his plump pouty lips. Opening your eyes slowly, you met his, eyebrows low in a clear look of apology. “Don’t worry about it, Jay.”

After a long sigh, a smile finally returned to his face, a bit forced, the anger at the universe for ruining your date not gone from his head, but anything to make you happy.

“What about we just order pizza and eat in the car?” you offered, getting him grinning in amusement. “What? It’s a great idea.”

“I’m not saying anything.” he threw his hand up in defense. “A motorcycle would’ve clearly made it to that restaurant in less than an hour.”

Slapping his shoulder at his complaint, you giggle at his pouty self, kissing all over his face to make him feel better.

“Move on, you son of a bitch!” a man screamed from outside, followed by a honk and another curse, your heads turning to the side to catch the source of such foul words.

“Someone is impatient.” Jason stated, earning from you a raised eyebrow at his hypocrisy.

Continuous honking and swearing cursed the next couple of minutes in that car, causing both you and Jason to lose your patience. But it was one curse, one rotten, mean spirited sentence, that had your blood boiling, hand flying to open the car door and slap some sense into this man.

"Mark my words, this will not end cute." You said, one leg already halfway out the door.

In a quick, solid movement, one only a well trained vigilante could perform, Jason pulled you back in, closing the door on the way, the sound of lock swiftly following along. Seeing your angry face, he let off a laugh, holding your face between his hands and filling your face with kisses.

“Look who’s the grumpy one now.” he laughed, pinching your cheeks.

“He’s the one who’s being an asshole.” you complained, crossed your arms on your chest, something that only amused Jason even more, another breathy laugh slipping out of him.

“You're so cute.” he cooed, pecking the tip of your nose. 

Fumbling around with his suit pocket, he takes out his phone, handing it to you still locked. “Here, call the pizza place. We ain’t leaving here any time soon.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd blurb #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff

[flamingpudding]

Substitute City Ghost

Clockwork had a plan. Their young king needed to learn how to take care of people without the kind of hero like fighting he did in Amity Park. There was a lot to learn for the young halfa and his king classes could only cover so much. Thus he had found a plan that would give his king the perfect learning expirence while also helping out his recently new friend. Well not that new since his friend was quite an old ghost of their own. But he had only recently made direct contact with her.

Lady Gotham was an old and powerful ghost. Born from the beliefs of her city and strengthened by the once living and protecting it. But she was stretching herself thin. Managing her city, helping the dead find their way, looking out for the shades, and protecting the weaker entities, was already a lot of responsibilities for a city ghost. But Lady Gotham has added more to her plate, supporting those that protect her city. Mortals that she called her knights. Aiding them by controlling the shadows, guiding those that need help toward them, or the other way around, guiding her knights to those that needed help. She was strong, but even a ghost like her could grow exhausted. His friend needed rest and recharge. Surely Lady Gotham wouldn't say no if he invited her to a vacation to the Realms, and in that same invitation, he would direct his king to his new hands on training.

The bats and birds knew something was different about Gotham lately. It was strange and slightly unsettling. The change felt like it had just happened overnight. They were suspicious, wondering if they were sensing one of their rogues planning something big. Jason and Duke appeared to sense it the most.

At first, it didn't appear to be too big of a problem, but then strange things started to happen. Their rogues started tripping over, seemingly nothing. And if that wasn't enough it appeared like their rogues were a whole lot more inattentive to their surroundings. Now the Bats and birds were good at sneaking, but they had human limits. Yet there were times they snuck up on them like they weren't even seen.

Dick swore that one of the goons had stared at him and didn't see him, even though he had tried to pull the tap their shoulder and greet them before punching them act. The guy had turned around and stared at him before looking around like no one was even there until he punched the guy anyway.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part. Bullets, throwing knives or anything aimed and thrown at them never hit their marks. Not for the lag of them dodging but for the things they were sure they shouldn't have been able to react in time for. Tim espacially had pointed out that a bullet should have hit him once but it never even graced him. Yet when he checked the place after the arrest. There had been a clear bullet hole in the wall where he had been.

They weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. They had even tried to get a member of the Justice League Dark to look into it. But strangely enough Constantine had refused to even set foot into Gotham for once, and even insisted that the other do not either.

To say that Batman was not amused would have been a very big understatement. The man was brooding. And of course Dick had to jinx them too. The eldest bat kid had to mention that it at least wasn't getting worse.

And don't you know it. It got worse. Like weirdly alarming strangely worse.

Because, how else would you define it when you're in the middle of a briefing with your patrol partner for the night when suddenly a Lazarus Pit look alike portal opens below your feed swallowed you up and the freaking drops you into the middle of a crime scene or mugging.

It was only thanks to their training that they were able to react quickly enough after a bound of disorientation. But fuck did that gave them all a good damn heart attacks when that happened the first time to Damian of all people.

Something was definitely wrong with their city. Thankfully they had some sort of hint, because the first time the Pit portal happened to Duke, he claimed that he saw a white haired figure right before it had swallowed him hole and spit him out at a bank robbery.

Danny was honestly believing he was doing a good job as substitute city spirit while Lady Gotham was enjoying her vacation. Sure , he still had trouble with some things, but he was sure he was getting the hang of the whole supporting the cities vigilantes gig Lady Gotham had going on. The whole managing the shades and the dead spirits was still up in the air, though. But at least he had figured out a way easier way to guide the vigilantes towards the once that needed help.

Now he just needed to figure out what was wrong with that one guy in the red helmet and he was sure that both Clockwork and Lady Gotham would be proud of him and how he had managed her city during her vacation.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #duke thomas #bruce wayne #lady gotham #clockwork the ghost #lady gotham needed a vacation #and danny a lesson and how to manage taking care of people the not hero way #clockwork thought he was hittinv two birds with one stone #so danny became lady gothams substitute city ghosts #the bats and birds knew something changed #danny believes he figured out vigilante support like lady gotham had #but he is just making the poor bats more and more paranoid and suspicious #the lazarus pit portals were not helping #even if they guided the bats to the crime scenes quicker

[dairy-farmer]

If you like, (as I saw you indeed do, from an ask) De-ageing promts/asks? Consider THIS~!

Everyone always hitting our poor baby boy Tim with that De-Ageing! As though his puss ain't tight and assets perky! Rude! You know who SHOULD be hit?

>:Dc Bruce~

Because him and Ra's are once again going at it. Bruce is not blind and DOES NOT appreciate this man panting after his Son. Is he a hypocrite? Maybe. But he's still gonna punch Ra's about kicking his boy out a window and the various bits of leering.

They do the Traditional by now, Dramatic Heroic/Immortal Sword Fight near the pits.

Ra's makes A Comment(tm). Of what he'll do when Bruce is dead. Since Bruce has failed to join him, Talia failed to give him a Worthy Heir, and Tim proven... Interesting(tm).

Can't do SHIT without limbs, Ra's. Bruce sees red and tries to feed the fucker his own entrails. Very calm. Toooootally thinking clearly.

It was, rather predictably, a trap. But Bruce is a talented man. So now they're BOTH stabbed pretty badly. Very homo-erotic, which is also traditional. Because with Ra's of course it is. Regardless, Ra's has NOT survived this long just to die to Daddy "don't fuck my son".

Into the pits we both go!

Which? Honestly, he's been trying for YEARS to get Bruce to use. So he can see reason. Ra's can admit the irony.

They struggle. Are drowning. Healing. Still impaled. Break free of each other, even as they try to grapple each other into submission. Again, the homo-eroticism is thick enough to choke lesser men. All the while? The pits are healing.

The wounds, yes. But also everything ELSE. They ARE submerged after all. Ra's? Expects this. Bruce? No idea what's coming.

He drags Ra's blade free of his body and breaks surface. Pit furious and seeing green. Damn near baby faced, at JUST under 20.

Turns out taking care of your body means there's less to "Fix". Self destructive Missions come back to bite him once again. But? Shit. Ninjas. Pouring in to help a fresh faced Ra's. Late 20s and in his prime once more. Damn it!

This isn't over, he growls.

Does NOT like the amused way Ra's is smirking.

One fight out and a stolen jet later? Bruce gets to stare in horror at his Twink-ification. Half his sons are physically OLDER then him. There is no way in hell he can hide this with make up. Luckily, it's Gotham.

He stages a kidnapping of himself. "Unknown chemical agent" combined with the INFAMOUS Gotham bay water. Clark, pretending to be him (once he's done laughing) goes in, Twink Bruce comes out.

People believe it.

Brucie Wayne is too dumb to make this up, after all. And stranger things have happened. Once cleared by the hospital? He heads home.

Now what.

He LIKED his Dilf status. His "silver fox in the making". He didn't have to "date". Booze it up or party. He was FREE damn it. He sulks. Jason and Dick are laughing at him.

Tim let's him hide in his office. Starts crafting "new lease on life" PR campaigns. They are, unfortunately, going to have to attend a Fad Pilates-Yoga-Samba Fusion Dance class. He's so sorry.

It's awful.

What's WORSE?

Is he forgot how HORNY he was at this age. It Does. NOT. Stop. Just an endless stream of wanting to thrust and fuck and lick and suck and-. It literally keeps him up at night! Even after patrol! And Selina? She won't touch him with a ten foot pole.

He's "an infant".

Call her when he's fixed.

He ALMOST considers some of the girls in his god awful class. But then they open their mouths and say some of the most soulless, casually cruel, things he's ever heard. And THAT reminds him he has standards.

He manages to find NICE ones, but then THEN start talking? And good lord, they are BABIES. Where are their fathers and why have they failed these wonderful young ladies? Have a college fund. Bruce is your father now.

And STILL horny.

Possibly in hell.

He tells this, even though he probably shouldn't, to Tim. Rants really. Because Tim let him hide again. Brought him coffee and dinner. And? Frankly? TIM is reasonable! Bruce wouldn't BE in this situation if he could find even a SINGLE woman like him!

And Tim watches Bruce pace. Muscles rolling as he walks. Still in work out gear. Young, nearly his age, so hot Tim wants to choke himself on his... Well. Tim COULD point out the obvious. Fleshlights. Modern toys that Bruce could no doubt improve.

OR~ Tim could shoot his shot and go for glory.

......fuck it.

Witness Him.

Tim deliberately splays his legs. Sprawls, open and inviting. And muses, not looking at Bruce of course, if Bruce needs a Woman or just the right hole?

Bruce freezes. Because of course not. He's Bi AF, just REALLY want to fuck a... wait. Wait(tm). Bruce's brain starts punching out Options. Why Would Tim Ask That? He looks at Tim. His body language. Considers if he wants to ignore it or take this clear offer.

He's across the room and plucking the tablet from Tim's hands in a handful of strides. Naked. Now.

Young Bruce is the HORNIEST, NEEDIEST fuck you can imagine. Once you let him in? It's all over. You're gonna wake up to that morning wood pounding your puss. Spend breakfast, being his desert. As he eats you out. Humping your leg like a dog in heat. Gotta go to work? Well not before his good by fuckies! Needs to shoot his load nice and deep, so you know he loves you.

Visit you at the office. Finger fuck you at your desk. Worship your clit like he's trying to win a medal. When you finally can't concentrate any more? Pull you from your office chair and fuck you til you're a sloppy mess on the floor. Don't worry! He brought a plug so you won't mess the change of clothes he brought you! See you at lunch~!

And on and on and on. Because Bruce is physically in the horniest phase of his life, has his FULL Batman stamina, and? Realized almost IMMEDIATELY? Tim cuddles when he's well fucked and exhausted. And Bruce misses him.

So Bruce is gonna take advantage of the situation.

Can't drift away from me and go off to join some random hero team, if I'm the Best Dick Of Your Life. If your body craves me. You get so used to my constant fuckings, your day is incomplete without them~

Use my WORDS? Pshhhhh. No. I'm just going to use a seventy step plan to permanently tie Tim to me for life with my dick! Because I love him! This is a reasonable and well adjusted way for me to act, I'm gonna get such a good grade in Dad. Now if you'll excuse Bruce, he's gonna go fuck his son.

-🐼🐼🐼

!!! oh my god bruce getting deaged would be his worst nightmare ever- having to join 'new age' spritual things like something-yoga or eating some trendy new food because it aligns with his 'brucie' character- add that in to him not being able to fuck within any age group. his new '20 year old peers' are so incredibly immature and he can't fathom breaking his morality enough to fuck them and the older ones wont let him near them because THEY feel like creeps. so tim being the only logical choice left and bruce also being able to kill two birds with one stone by being able to 1. get off and 2. make sure tim stays close to him😭😭😭

#asks #answered asks #anonymous

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)

━ chapter eight: you are beautiful like i’ve never seen | read chapter seven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5.6k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The first day of the four-day series between the Gotham Knights and the Metropolis Monarchs is soon upon you.

Like usual, Knights fans show up for their team. Even if they suck and have, on average, the worst win-loss record in the entire MLB, well. Gothamites take loyalty seriously. And you get it, anyway. Only you can say they suck miserably. Not the pretentious jerks who came down from Metropolis to jeer at the Knights. 

“They’re just jealous,” you say, sulkily biting into a pretzel, then offering it to Tim wordlessly as your eyes scan the packed stands. To your pleasure, despite the likely outcome of today’s game — and this series, the first one between the two teams finally taking place in Gotham — you see that those dressed in grey and blue, the Knights’ colors, outnumber those in Monarchs colors, which are white and red. 

He takes a bite, then, around a mouthful of pretzel, asks, “Why would they be jealous?”

“Metropolis got passed up to hold the All-Star game this summer. Which makes sense. They held it already a few years ago and Gotham’s never held it.”

“Sure.” Tim sips the absurdly large cup of Zesti, then offers you some. They were out of Soder, to your displeasure and his amusement. Still, you don’t say no, leaning over to wrap your mouth around the straw, your eyes still looking out at the field. With it being May, spring is in full-force and will soon be replaced with summer, though today, tendrils of it are already creeping in, humidity stifling you, along with the beaming heat of the sun. 

You’re in jean shorts and a Knights jersey, unbuttoned with a white camisole underneath, along with the Knights ballcap you bought last time, situated backwards over your hair. Finally, with a beat-up pair of Converse, you have a pair of black crew socks patterned with the Wonder Woman symbol. You are quite fond of her. All the Wonder ladies, really. Strong, beautiful women who can kick your ass to the moon and back — what more can anyone ask for? You’d said the same thing to Tim when he saw your socks and teased you about them. He found that very funny, though you aren’t totally sure why. 

The one in question is dressed in a maroon t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of surprisingly beat-up Vans, finished with the Gotham Knights cap you bought for him the last time you two were here. He wears his properly, though, unlike you, with the bill carefully hiding his face from any prying eyes. The air in the stadium is so charged with tension from the oncoming match, though, you doubt even if he took it off, no one would notice. 

“Bet you twenty the benches clear,” he says.

“That’s not even a question, Drake. Try better.”

“Alright… I say, the benches clear before the fourth inning.”

You squint thoughtfully, then nod. “I say after. You’re on.” 

The benches do clear after the fourth inning. But only in the ninth, both teams showing a, frankly, incredible amount of restraint despite the tense game that had them, shockingly enough, neck-and-neck. 

By the ninth inning, both teams were tied 4-4. But a grounder at the bottom of the inning allowed the player on third base to make it home, effectively breaking the tie. The stadium exploded into noise, the Knights themselves celebrating, too, and one thing led to another and then both teams were spilling onto the field, fists flying. 

Look, you aren’t saying the Monarchs are weaker because they’re from Metropolis. But the truth of the matter is, most of the Knights’ team is made up of Gotham natives and, well, this is Gotham. Can’t go around defenseless, not with the likes of the Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face and more. More than that, you just think, in general, as being a team often at the bottom of the barrel… they must be holding in a lot of anger. 

And by the blood you two see, that anger is coming out full-force. Not at all helped by the tension among fans, who cheer on their teams, of course, but then…

Tim’s hand tightens around yours warily as a Monarchs and Knights fan start yelling at each other near you.

“I think,” he murmurs, lips near your ear in a way that has your heart stuttering, “we should go before we get our asses kicked.”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t protect me?”

“I don’t assume that you are a person who explicitly needs my protection. But if you ask…”

“Aw, no. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pretty face.” Fists start flying. You pull your legs in as someone drops a cup of beer, feeling droplets of it against your skin. “Yeah. I think we should go.”

The two of you leave posthaste, along with a decent amount of people also trying to avoid trouble. 

“So,” Tim starts when the two of you are in the safety of his car, blue eyes twinkling with something like mischief. “Pretty, huh?”

You refuse to be embarrassed. It’s, like, a fact of life. Everyone knows this. The sky is blue, the grass is green, Tim Drake is ridiculously pretty. So pretty he practically reinvents the word every time you see him. God, you like him so much. 

“Yeah,” you sniff, crossing your arms. “So gimme my twenty bucks, pretty boy.”

Tim grins and gives you your twenty bucks and the two of you get the hell out of there. 

(“So, like, would you… want to go to the All-Star game?” he tries to ask you nonchalantly later that night.

“Tim.”

“Maybe I want to go to the All-Star game.”

“You don’t even like baseball.”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, knowing you caught him out, so, he ends up going for the kind of honesty that makes your breath catch. 

“Well, you do, so.”

You watch TV for a minute, trying to settle the raging feelings inside you.

“Alright… I’ll let you buy us tickets to it if you let me buy tickets to the Knights kickoff game when the season starts.”

“But you don’t like football.”

You give him a look that says Hello? Are you stupid? Because so what? He just said it. You like baseball, so he tolerates it. He likes football — or, well, the Knights — so you’d tolerate it, too.

He doesn’t get that, you think.

That you’d do anything for him.

But he can’t, for obvious reasons.

So, you’ll just have to remind him. 

And he understands, too, laughing. “Alright. Deal.”

You think he agrees so easily because the football season doesn’t start until September and it’s only the middle of May. 

But little does he know, you will in fact be saving up money for the tickets and you will be hunting Reddit forums for tips on seating and ticket dealers, thank you very much.)

(Also, the Knights manage to win the next game, and you say manage, because a handful of them were suspended for fighting, along with a handful from the Monarchs; but you suppose that evens the playing field.

They lose the two after, but no one really cares. It’s nice to be able to win a game. And also a little bit nice to have seen the fight that unfolded between the two.)

The nice thing about teaching social studies is that the state of New Jersey does not require an assessment test for it. The only tests they require, starting from third grade to ninth grade, are for the English Language Arts, Math, and Science — the New Jersey Student Learning Assessments, otherwise shortened to NJSLA and colloquially known as the SLA’s.

The SLA’s are taken in the spring semester, in the second to last week of school in June. While your fellow teacher aides and teachers scramble to prepare reviews and ensure the students are ready, you and Ms. C can, for the most part, kick back and relax. Final grades are due next week but you two have them ready, so you don’t have to stress about it.

Still, it’s not all great as you feel the usual guilt that comes with watching teachers and students alike fret over the tests. It is collectively known that the standardized tests aren’t indicative of anything at all and Gotham Pointe is the kind of school that wanted to move away from measuring knowledge with tests, but they are state mandated and so, unavoidable.

To that end, you and Ms. C agree to not make class stressful for any of the kids in the lead-up to the tests and you think you succeed for the most part. You get roped into proctoring for the eighth graders, who scare you much more than the sixth graders, and you’re pretty sure they could tell, too, so that’s just great… It’s easy work anyhow, if not boring and procedural. 

But soon, the SLA’s are taken and done with and you are about to enter the final week of the semester. 

The weekend calls for highs in the eighties and the familiar cloak of humidity that will only get heavier as you approach the height of the summer. Gotham has brutal winters that dry out your lips terribly and unforgiving summers that make you sweat from every pore you have. 

But with it being only the first weekend of June and spare cloud cover that gives the occasional break from the sun, the weather is pleasant. Pleasant enough for you to decide to brave your allergies and convince Tim to have a picnic at Robinson Park. Cleaned up directly following the earthquake by Lex Luthor and then again recently by Wayne Enterprises, it has become a nice place in the city to visit. As nice as it can get in Gotham, anyway.

The park takes up a fairly sizable swath of central Gotham, east of the Upper East Side and south of Coventry. Not as far as Otisburg, where the Knights Stadium is, which is part of the northernmost area of the city. (Well, the northernmost area is probably, to be accurate, Bristol, the neighborhood where Gotham’s wealthiest reside, but you digress.)

You and Tim occupy a small, quiet area on the south side of the park. A large tree and perfectly-cut shrubs hide you from the prying eyes of others. 

The park is bursting with greenery, a breath of fresh air — literally and figuratively. The healthy trees and shrubs and freshly-cut grass remind you that New Jersey is technically known as ‘the Garden State.’ Hard to remember when you’re downtown Gotham, standing among towering skyscrapers, brightly-lit screens, and smoggy skies, but here, it is a nice reminder. 

You say this idly to Tim as you two eat an early dinner — caprese sandwiches he made, with lemonade brought back from the manor, courtesy of one Alfred Pennyworth, and the freshest strawberries you have ever had the pleasure of looking at and eating. 

He nods at your words, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Ever since No Man’s Land, the park’s thrived. Nothing ever dies.”

“That’s not ominous at all. And… what about No Man’s Land?”

No Man’s Land, the cataclysmic earthquake that struck Gotham City several years ago — like when you were fifteen or something — that caused the death of millions and displaced even more. Though, you might say that is because of the US government’s response. Instead of continuing to fund rescue efforts and help, they abandoned Gotham, turned it into No Man’s Land. No longer part of the United States and those who stayed also exiled. Of course, many didn’t exactly have a choice…

The city has since been rebuilt, with all buildings built stronger — earthquake proofed. When it happened, the only buildings left standing were the ones owned and built by WE because Bruce Wayne specifically called for them to be earthquake-proof. He was also the last to leave, the last to fight in front of Congress. If not for the philanthropic efforts he does around the city, then for that, you have real respect for him. 

Tim shrugs, sipping his lemonade. “Apparently, Poison Ivy camped out here for the entirety of it. She left eventually when the city opened again but since, the park’s been healthy. Even during winter.”

“Huh,” you say. The conclusion is obvious, then, that she might have something to do with it. Well. You’ve heard she’s leaned more morally grey these days. Still wanted by the police and all but… you don’t know. It’s a nice notion, to keep some of the only greenery in the city healthy no matter the season. 

You’ve never frequented Robinson Park before now — again, allergies — but Tim often looks too pale for your liking and now that he isn’t working at WE, you are more inclined to get him out of Rose Oaks. Even at the risk of a stuffy nose and watery eyes that’ll bother you tomorrow. 

You finish your sandwich and lemonade, help yourself to more than a few strawberries, which are a delicious mix of sweet and tangy, then lay down, sprawling out on the blanket. Well. Not totally sprawling out. The sundress you wear doesn't allow for that. Yeah, you are wearing spandex underneath but still. It’s the principle. No one is allowed to get an eyeful under your dress. Other than maybe Tim. Definitely Tim.

The thought makes your face warm and you shove it away, distracting yourself with grabbing a napkin and digging through your tote bag for your makeup bag. 

You dab at your mouth and open your compact mirror, checking for any food that might’ve caught on the darkly-tinted lip balm you’re wearing. Looks fine, though it’s faded towards the center from eating.

Tim sits upright next to you, his body twisted toward you and one hand planted on the blanket as he leans back on it. His eyes are elsewhere as he lifts a strawberry to his lips. Your eye twitches as he bites into it and some of the juice dribbles down his hand and nearly out the corner of his mouth — you say nearly because his tongue darts out, catching the droplets before they can fall, and you’re pretty sure a meteor could hit Gotham right now and you would absolutely be none the wiser.

Doesn’t help when he lifts his hand to his mouth, either, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he catches the trails of strawberry juice. Pink lips move, shaping words, but you don’t notice, because this has to be a new circle of hell or something, you don’t give a shit what Dante thinks, this is the worst. 

With concerted effort, you turn your eyes to your compact mirror and dig for your lip balm. 

Forgetting that he had said something while you were staring at him and wondering why god was so cruel, you jump when his jean-clad knee brushes the outside of your thigh, the texture rough against the softer skin there. 

“Wh-huh?”

You look at him and he’s finally looking at you, the sunlight doing too much for him in the way it sets off his pale skin and his dark hair, his eyes a softer shade of blue than you’ve ever seen, like the sky in Metropolis, considerably less smoggy than Gotham’s. He’s cleaning his hands with a wet wipe — yes, he seriously brought wet wipes because he said ‘eating fruit is serious business’ — lips quirked as he gazes down at you.

“Did you hear me?”

“No. What did you say?”

“I said, do you know what that tree is?” he asks, nodding to the tree next to you, tall in height with faintly yellowed leaves.

You squint. “Should I…?”

“I guess not,” he says. “You’re more into social studies than science.”

You’re also not him, brain stuffed full with the oddest of facts. 

No one is like him. But this is thought with a ridiculous amount of fondness, as par the course. There is little he does that annoys you and info-dumping about some odd thing that grabbed his attention is not one of those things.

“So, you know, then?” you ask, lifting the lip balm to your mouth and reapplying it, a tad distracted as you keep an ear out for him.

“It's shagbark hickory. Carya ovata. Look at the trunk.”

You look at the tree trunk. 

“See how the bark is peeling and a little weird? That’s how you can tell.” 

“Kinda creepy, isn’t it?”

He exhales a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You turn your head, eyes scanning for another tree. You spot one some distance away, a pretty thing with white flowers blooming on the branches, reminding you vaguely of a cherry blossom.

“What about that one?” 

Silence meets your words. Your eyes flicker from the tree back to him. “Tim?”

Instead of looking at the tree you pointed out, he is looking at you. Not just at your face but your —

“Sorry,” he says quietly, lifting a hand to you. “You just have some lip balm right here…”

Just as he finishes speaking, his thumb slowly swipes the underside of your mouth, the slightly calloused pad of his thumb just barely catching the actual skin of your lips in a way that sparks a fire inside of you. 

There is no way for you to save face, you think dimly, and you know that to be utterly true as your eyes then find his thumb as he pulls back. On the pale skin, the smudge of your darkly-tinted lip balm stands out. 

You meet his eyes again in the next second and they seem a shade darker, more like the blue waters of Metropolis Harbor instead of their clear skies. It’s more than that, though, it’s the look in them, the weight of his gaze, like a physical thing, burning straight through you, and the urge to be close to him, to press your lips to his, is monumental, practically religious, like even that wouldn’t be enough, like the only way you might be satisfied is if you two were one, cells and atoms intermingling.

You want so much.

Too much that you can have.

The shriek of laughter from a child shatters the moment and he looks away quickly. Your heart pounds out of your chest, face unbearably hot. For him, too, red rises high in his cheeks, not doing anything to detract from your attraction. Exacerbating it, if anything. 

You raise your eyes to the sky, closing your eyes, trying to calm yourself.

Next to you, Tim clears his throat and suddenly flops down beside you with a grunt, arm brushing yours.

“White flowering dogwood.”

“Huh?” you ask, eyes opening as you glance at him. He’s looking up at the sky, allowing you a view of his sharp jawline, the slope of his nose, and the press of his full, pink lips. God…

“The tree,” he says, voice a little rough. “The one you asked about. It’s white flowering dogwood. Cornus florida. It can be pink, too, but, well, as you can tell, that one is white.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah.”

You loathe the slight awkwardness that falls over you in that following silence. He seems to dislike it as well as he clears his throat. 

“You were right about this,” he says, voice back to normal, soft, soothing tenor, music to your ears. “It’s nice.”

“A little vitamin C does wonders for the mood. And complexion.” You pause. “Your complexion, to be clear —”

“Alright, alright,” he says, faintly amused. “I get it. I’m pale.”

The silence that unfolds in that next moment is considerably lighter, more comfortable. You force yourself to relax, crossing your ankles idly. 

“Any plans for the summer?” he asks after a couple minutes.

“Hmm, no, not really. Probably pick up a few more classes. Might visit my family.”

In the corner of your eye, he nods. “If you get any more of those offers to bring someone, count me in.”

“Yeah?” 

“Well…” he trails off and you turn your head as he moves, a hand digging through his bag. The sound of something crinkling, before he pulls out an object wrapped in wrapping paper, the same kind you use in class for finished products, that way they don’t break.

A grin pulls sharply at your lips as you take it from him. 

“It didn’t turn out so bad,” he says, a smile in his voice, though your eyes are on the mug, which you eagerly unwrap. 

You can’t help your gasp. “Tim…”

The mug the two of you shaped is no longer dull grey clay, soft and malleable, but hard and durable; you still hold it gingerly, smoothing your thumb over the now-smooth surface. Underlaid by a soft shade of blue, the mug is iridescent, glimmering green, blue, yellow, purple, and many more colors, almost like the surface of the water.

“I had to get some help,” he admits. “But I got the hang of it eventually. Despite this little… imperfection —” he reaches out to brush a finger over the lip of the mug, where it’s a bit wonky “— I think it turned out nice.”

“Told you,” you say, your matter-of-fact words belied by the soft wonder in your expression. “Perfection is a false ideal. And boring. This is beautiful, Timmy. Seriously. Thank you.”

“‘Course,” he says softly, a kind of warmth in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat.  

You look at the mug a little longer, taken at how it shines under the sun, then wrap it up again, passing it back to him. He puts it away. 

Warmed at the thought he put into the mug, you two sink into a truly comfortable silence, broken by the laughter of children nearby, the distant and usual wail of sirens, and the chirp of birds.

He hums thoughtfully. 

“What?”

“The birds.”

“Let me guess, you’re an expert in birds, too?” 

“Something like that,” he says softly. “Listen.”

“I’m listening.”

Multiple birds chirp in that following silence. Quick, repetitive.

You scrunch your face up. “Pretty sure I’ve heard this one, like, every morning.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Downy Woodpecker. Very common.”

You hum in acknowledgment, able to pick it out now that he’s put a name to it. The two of you lapse into silence again, a concentrated sort of energy coming from him as he focuses on something.

“Ah,” he murmurs, as another call joins. “Now this is a treat…”

“Share, share.”

“Any guesses?”

“Pigeon.”

He exhales a laugh. “Not even close.”

“Social studies. Not science. Or whatever that area could be classified as. Zoology?”

“Ornithology,” he says, because of course he knows the correct name, his arm brushing yours as he drops it to his side, like yours is. Fingers brush yours. You don’t pull away, allowing your pinky to skim his before his fingers slide against yours, filling the gaps. Your heart stutters as you let yourself bask in the contact, then attempt to focus on the bird call that just joined the Woodpeckers.

It’s not as repetitive or quick as the other one, calmer, in a sense.

“What is it?” you ask, voice unknowingly dropping into a whisper. 

Tim’s voice is just as low when he next speaks. “American Robin. Relatively common, too.”

His thumb rubs over your fingers right after, making your chest tighten with warmth, so all you can do is pinpoint the call of the Robin, that clear string of whistles the only sound in the silence. 

He is quiet for some time after, the both of you listening to the Robins and Woodpeckers sing. But eventually, he picks it up again, easily singling out bird calls and putting names to them.

You two spend several hours there, mostly dozing, but towards seven, you find yourself filled with perhaps too much sun and warmth, so he suggests something cold. You pack up and drop your things off in his car — you grimace at the grass clinging to the blanket and the way the blades of it catch on the material in the trunk but Tim waves a hand at it, unbothered, saying it’s not an issue. For him, with the ability to easily afford car washes and interior cleanings, you believe it. 

He pops by a Wawa’s to gas up while you search for nearby frozen treats but you get distracted by the attendant in the neon vest that quickly comes over to gas up the car. 

“This is why I could never get a car,” you say, watching the attendant punch the premium grade — at Tim’s request — then pull out the nozzle. “We didn’t have this so sometimes my parents made me fill up the car and I hated it. Something about it just makes me nervous. Like I know I’m pressing it for gasoline but I’m like… What if it did a little switchy-switchy and now I’m filling the tank with diesel and now it’s ruined and my dad’s going to kill me.”

Tim looks fondly amused. “So, shouldn’t the act of someone else doing it for you help?”

“No. Not even a little bit. Because yeah, I am nervous, but at least it’s me. We all grow up with different ways of doing this and I dunno. Besides,” you say, craning your neck to watch the attendant stand idly by the gas pump, numbers ticking rapidly as the tank fills up; the price makes you grimace. “This kind of feels like a safety risk, at least here in Gotham. What if they put in diesel?”

“Well, the good thing about that is they’re liable for it. So, I would think that makes it easier.”

You grunt. “I guess. I just think it’s a tricky thing, okay.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Have you found anything?”

“Just some fro-yo places.”

“Fro-yo’s cold.”

“Yeah, but it’s fro-yo. I don’t want discount diet ice cream, I want ice cream. The whole concept of fro-yo is questionable.”

Tim laughs. “Who knew you had such strong opinions on New Jersey’s self-servicing laws and frozen yogurt?”

You flush, because despite the tease, he looks fond, and that’s too much for you after everything today, so you grumble a little bit and turn your eyes back to your phone.

The two of you end up at an ice cream parlor in the Upper East Side. Tim gets mint chocolate chip ice cream, much to your horror. 

“That’s basically toothpaste. You might as well brush your teeth then eat some chocolate.”

“Okay, drama queen. Relax. Maybe if you tried some —” the red spoon waves under your nose as he gets in close and you turn your head, bracing a hand on his chest, though you aren’t trying that hard to push him away. You find yourself noting the muscle there, something you’ve noticed since the two of you slept together on the couch. Tim has a lithe frame but there is no shortage of power, evidenced in the way he can easily carry a large pack of water bottles without losing breath. You can carry it, but even you have your limits for how long, limits he easily surpasses, you suspect.

The car doors unlock as you near it, parallel parked perfectly (and he made it look easy, too, though you won’t give him much credit on the driving front since he’s a little too much for you) in front of the ice cream parlor. Tim had asked if you’d ever driven the scenic route up in Bristol, to which you responded of course you hadn’t. That’s all the way north of the city, off the interconnected islands entirely. Much too far for you, at least with your bike. So, he matter-of-factly said that’s what you two were going to do and maybe if you stuck around long enough, you could see the sunset from there. It sounds awfully romantic but you try not to think about that.

Instead, you redouble your efforts on teasing him as the two of you pause by the car.

“Bleh. I’m not going to ruin my taste buds with that. You should try this.” You scoop out some of your ice cream, lifting it to him. 

“Chocolate chip cookie dough. Revolutionary. You’re really breaking barriers there.”

“It’s classic, Timothy. Do you deny that?”

“Have you even tried mint chocolate chip?” he shoots back, spoon still proffered. “Instead of, you know, jumping on the hating bandwagon.”

“Wow.”

He grins, stepping closer, wiggling the spoon at you. “Try it.”

And the mistake here, of course, is thinking that you have it in you to deny him. At least for something as unserious as this. 

And he can see the moment you give in, grin turning victorious as he lifts the spoon and you, with your face flaring with heat at the action, only just barely realizing it, have no choice but to take it. 

But the sharp minty flavoring combined with the sweetness of the chocolate chips saves it — you — from getting too weird.

Tim laughs, delighted, as you swallow it, face scrunched up in disgust. 

“I almost feel like you picked that one to torment me.”

“Tormenting you is fun,” he agrees, before dropping his spoon back into his cup, then taking your wrist, hand still holding the forgotten spoonful of ice cream, and guiding it to his mouth.

“You don’t deserve the goodness of my ice cream,” you say, forcing a scowl and a light-hearted glare in a desperate attempt to control the tidal wave of fizzling heat that envelops your insides at him doing that. Mostly his gall. Seriously what is up with him…

It seems to work as he releases your wrist, red spoon cleaned from his mouth — that’s going to haunt you while you eat — and he laughs again. 

You punch his chest lightly, grumbling, then go around him, checking the street for any oncoming cars before going to the passenger door. 

Tim slides in a second later, still chuckling as he turns on the car and leaves his cup of ice cream in the cupholder. You bluster about it for a little but eventually agree to help feed him some of it, since the drive might take a while. Along with that, he lets you commandeer his phone and the music, naturally turning on ABBA as he pulls out and starts for the Sprang Bridge that’ll take you to the northernmost island, with Otisburg and the Knights Stadium in the east and Burnley and Park Row to the west. Continuing north, you hit the Kane Bridge that’ll take you off the islands entirely.

Take A Chance On Me plays on the speakers as you dutifully spoon the last bits of Tim’s ice cream into his mouth, then set the cup aside. Traffic slows you down but you don’t mind. You’ve never actually crossed this bridge, you think, in your entire time here. To the east is Amusement Mile and Gotham River, while west shows the rest of the Atlantic, dark waters stretching out into oblivion.

Tim hums the song idly, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder as he moves into the left lane that is going faster than the one you are currently in. Even with his admittedly reckless and impatient driving skills, you are nothing less than smitten as he taps the rhythm to the song on the steering wheel. 

Hiding a smile, you finish your own ice cream and get comfortable. 

It takes a while to finally get off the bridge and onto the two-lane road for Bristol. Considerably higher in elevation, it affords you exactly what he said — a scenic route of Gotham, overlooking the entire island. Even Metropolis, off in the distance. The sun is starting to set, too, washing everything in gold. 

At that, he pulls off the main road to a small gravel-filled area with no other cars and a single path that leads through the woods. 

“I guess this is the time you’re going to finally murder me and dispose of my body?”

“Naturally. But only after we watch the sunset on Spillkin Hill,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning off the car.

��Ah, of course, of course.”

The trail leads to a grassy hill that overlooks the city. Tim brings out the blanket again and you collapse there, a little sweaty and a little out of breath. He offers you a drink from his water bottle, which you gladly accept. 

From here, you can see everything. The Kane Bridge, with bumper-to-bumper traffic, Amusement Mile, rollercoasters arching high into the sky, Knights Stadium, sun glinting off the metal, floodlights on and bright. Up here, away from the true reality of what goes on in the dark, the city looks beautiful washed in the golden light of the sunset.

So does Tim, you think, breath catching in your throat as a breeze ruffles his dark hair and your fingers twitch to run through it, to put it back into order. His skin glows under the light, thick lashes casting shadows over the swell of his cheeks, cornflower blue eyes softened in a way that makes you want to lean in. 

You don’t.

Instead, you look back out, biting at the inside of your cheek. 

You had thought and hoped that your feelings might be short-lived, just a crush, just an infatuation, but what you are learning, since the day you two went to the rec center, since he spent the night, is that it will not be that simple. These feelings, you think, are the kind that stick with you, the ones that will make themselves known every time you spy a flowering dogwood or hear the call of a Robin. 

But that’s fine. Tim has brightened your world, made it that much warmer. You just want him, in any capacity that you can have him.

Even with his odd behavior today and from the last few weeks, behavior that has you second-guessing… Hope is a dangerous thing to have in Gotham City, after all.

But who are you kidding, right? That’s half the reason you stay here. 

And maybe, just maybe, it can finally pay off here.

You’ll have to wait and see. 

━ end notes

1. the stuff about the state tests for NJ — i did search that stuff up, however, the SLA stuff i just made up bc i like acronyms. so :D also! new jersey and oregon are in fact the only states in the us with self-service laws still in place, so basically, you cannot fill up your own gas. i always have a chuckle when i remember that LMAO

2. about the poison ivy thing, i just thought that would be some Fun Gotham Lore. i also don’t know if others would know, exactly, that she was inhabiting it during no man’s land because during that event, it was all hush-hush and mostly rumors, but afterward, there had to be more talk about it, especially when the kids she was taking care of were turned over to officials, you know?

3. here’s a website where you can listen to the calls of both the downy woodpecker and the robin mentioned here!

reblogs are appreciated!

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x y/n #red robin x you #batboys x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

So we all love slightly overprotective Big Brother Jason, but do you know what's also amazing?

More than slightly overprotective Big Brother Tim.

Like yeah, he knows that Damian is a capable fighter and has tried to kill him several times, but also baby? Is baby? Protect baby! Besides, what's a little attempted murder between siblings? Jason tried to kill Tim, and now they have movie nights every other Wednesday. It's fine.

When they have a patrol together Tim takes them out to get water ice as a treat once they're done. He makes sure to ask about Damian's art and how he's doing in his classes. He keeps an eye out for all of Damian's triggers and is ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. He keeps any and all contingency plans for his siblings under lock and key but keeps Damian's behind seven extra layers of protection.

One time some lady at a gala said "Damian's going to get a lot of attention when he's eighteen, if you know what I mean" and by the end of the night Tim had dug up every dirty secret on her and gave it to Jason and Babs to do with it what they would.

Damian acts like it's infantilizing and unnecessary, but they both know he apprentices the care and attention. It helps him feel like they've moved on from the rocky start of their relationship into being actual brothers.

Love it. Would Jason end up being jealous mildly put out that Tim’s beating him to overprotectivateing (no I’d didn’t just make that work up shush) Damian? Because that could also be hilarious.

Also I feel like Damian would do it right back to Tim in some way or another. Maybe while being as irritating as possible because 10-13 year olds are just Like That sometimes.

Okay so (now that this idea is committing nuclear fission in my brain) what if Jason sees Tim and Damian being overprotective of each other and they keep beating him to the (occasionally literal) punch, and so he goes, “why am I even here.”

He tries to turn his overprotective mother-henning tendencies towards someone else. Cass tells him no. Steph can’t stop laughing but does accept all good offerings. Dick is not-so-secretly thrilled. But that ruins it for Jason because eww Dick is just accepting this with heartfelt thank yous and hugs and hasn’t even tried to stab Jason or break into his safe house once.

And then Jason runs across this little kid that turns out to be a member of the justice league with no parental figure in sight and this is perfect.

Jason shows up to Gotham with Billy Batson in tow and it takes Tim and Damian all of four seconds to go protective big-brother on him. (“I’m older than you!” “Irrelevant.”)

Tim and Damian take Billy to a shooting range. Cue Jason complaining to a mildly amused and very entertained (yet unsympathetic) Steph. “That’s my thing. That is literally my thing.”

#sorry this ran away #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #batfam #batkids #dick grayson #stephanie brown #billy batson my baby #cassandra cain

[britcision]

So these past few months have been A Time, but the past few weeks in particular I’ve held off giving y’all any snacks because I am at Lady Gotham and I really want everyone to see her for the first time together

And I’m also at the last damn 1000 words for the chapter it is so close

But the tone is fighting me and I think it’s because I haven’t fully nailed what I want from this conversation and what will need to wait for the next one

So instead of something from the active chapter WIP here is a probably-to-be-deleted (or at least thoroughly reworked) scene from Jason’s first meeting with Lady Gotham 👀

(Cuz Jason’s been having A Goddamn Time these last few chapters and I think he deserves a break from breakdowns and daddy issues)

Happy WIP Wednesday!

————

It was almost a relief when her attention snapped back to Danny, her smile a little cooler, but still fond.

“You did not bring him to see me before,” she remarked blandly, and Danny winced.

“Yeah… if it helps, last time we were here we were kinda distracted?” He offered hopefully.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly, crossing one knee over the other and sending smog billowing around them.

“I’m aware. Clockwork told me he intended to ask for your services,” she added to Jason directly, blatant pride and approval making him wonder about his own doubts.

They came from John fucking Constantine, after all.

And from a decade of strenuous training for a job that at one point had literally kill him. Jason wouldn’t say he regretted his call, but he still wanted to know more. And about that weird shadow he’d seen in the visions she had showed him.

Danny seemed a little more hung up on something else.

“Wait, Clocky came and told you about it?” He asked incredulously.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly.

“The Master of Time may not technically need my permission, but he knows well enough to ask before interfering with what’s mine,” she agreed with a regal incline of her head.

Jason almost laughed at the feeling of Danny’s indignation beside him. He didn’t even have to look to see the pout as he folded his arms. It rather effectively killed any lingering tension.

“Oh, sure, the Ghost King he just drops in and ambushes, but we wouldn’t want to offend a city spirit,” Danny grumbled melodramatically, then looked sharply at Lady Gotham. “No offence, obviously.”

The larger ghost was clearly more amused than offended, blowing another stream of smog in Danny’s direction.

“None taken. You yourself were quick enough to ask my permission before entering my city,” she reminded him with an easy nonchalance.

“Yeah, but I have manners,” Danny grinned back, relaxing and leaning in against Jason’s side like either of them had any gravity pulling them down.

Gotham’s lips quirked as she nodded an agreement and she gestured with one hand at the mostly obscured length of her legs.

“They are appreciated. Do you like them?” She asked with just a hint of smugness that made Jason think there was something… more to the gesture.

Both men obediently followed the gesture, looking down the length of her legs into billowing smog and the occasional flash of her pearls. Jason could feel Danny’s confusion.

“Your, uh… your dress? It’s very nice?” He offered cautiously, his aura a delicate balance of polite-sincere-I’m just a little guy help me out here that almost made Jason snicker… until he realised that he couldn’t feel an answering aura from Lady Gotham.

She was so there, larger than life and overwhelming even sat on his level, but he wasn’t getting the same insights into her feelings he’d gotten from every other ghost he’d met. It kinda reminded him of that first meeting with Frostbite and realising he couldn’t feel the yeti’s aura… only to find it all around him.

He knew better than to go looking this time. He could confirm with Danny once they were away.

Meanwhile the Lady laughed softly, reshuffling long brown legs so the other was on top and recrossing them, smog trailing from where her feet should have been as it cleared for just the briefest moment. And set the dangling pearls shining bright.

“A decent try, my king, but once more?” She hinted, a flash of a smile setting the pearls briefly aglow. They almost bounced with the motion.

Jason knew the story, of course. All the bats had, usually from Alfred or the records of the police commissioner.

Bruce never talked about it. They were never quite so rude as to ask.

Which made it even more bullshit that Bruce constantly brought up Jason’s darkest secrets, his own past.

Squashing the thought, he tried convincing himself it tasted like Pitty. Despite the little grumblings of protest below his ribcage.

But no, he knew what the pearls meant to Bruce, knew from the bat signal eyes what they had to mean. Bruce fucking Wayne, Batman, was so intrinsically a part of Gotham he’d changed the way her spirit looked.

Jason had fucking given his life for the city, and what had it gotten him? A permanent passenger who wanted to kill everyone he cared for, a family that could barely look at him, a half life of always coming in second to Tim fucking Drake… a little brother he had nearly killed because everything Jason had ever wanted had just fallen into Tim’s lap.

He knew better now. He did. He knew it wasn’t true; Tim butted heads with Bruce every other week, got himself a Robin cape by larceny (and hadn’t Jason loved hearing that? Almost better than going for the Batmobile’s tires), embezzled enough from the Bat-Budget to build an entire second Batmobile that he kept below his Nest like a trophy.

(Jason had stolen the tires off that once he found out about it too. Tim had never brought it up or retaliated, but he was too good not to know who did it. They’d been replaced by Bat Budget anyway.)

Point was, Jason knew the Pit lied. That Tallia and Ra’s and all that lot lied. He had been missed, he was loved, his family wanted him home. Gotham was his as much as Bruce’s, and the Alley was his alone.

It just… tugged at something bitter and dark in his chest to look at Lady Gotham, the beating heart of his city, and only see Bruce reflected back. Only the glitz and glamour of the rich, just like in real life.

The thought was barely more than words, half choked words he knew weren’t anything but a ghost fear from the kid who’d been left behind or forgotten more than he’d been cared for, before Lady Gotham responded. Not verbally, but for all that Jason hadn’t felt anything a moment ago, he was suddenly surrounded by her.

WARMTH-GENTLE-LOVED-LOVED-LOVED

It wasn’t that which broke through though; no, that was the sudden soft, watered down scent of Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume, the one they could almost never afford so she would refill the bottles with water once they were about half empty.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment, he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

He could feel her signal-eyes on him, dimly hear her bantering with Danny about whatever the other was missing, but none of it registered. Not through the phantom arms wrapped around him, the soft whisper of Gotham’s voice in his head.

Not unloved, my son. Never unloved, never alone.

————

We’ll see if this makes its way back in either this chapter or the next one, Jason is certainly due a couple dozen complete breakdowns just from the backstory, let alone the events of the fic

I’d love to say I think it’ll be soon but tomorrow’s gonna suck and I have no idea what this month is gonna be I couldn’t breathe all through October and it’s touch and go now

Tag List:

@welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith h @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched d @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation n @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

#danny fenton dead and loving it #wip wednesday #man it’s been so long it doesn’t autocomplete the tag #and half the tag list done gone 👀 #oop #we’ll see what november holds #defo lady gotham #maybe finished chapter?????? #we can but hope

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Batman's Bird Watching Scrapbook

This fic for the @batfam-big-bang was written for @jube-art's AU concept and artwork. The way the fic is done up, it just... it would be way too much work to post all 35 chapters on tumblr, so you get the first one, and the AO3 links. So far, the first 4 parts are up on AO3.

There are two versions of this fic.

The Cool Version, which has all the coding and formatting to make it look like an actual scrapbook. And

The Simplified Version, which does not have all the coding and formatting to make it cleaner and easier to read on mobile.

Chapter 1: Arrival of Haly's Circus in Gotham

The circus wouldn't normally attract my attention, but Alfred had been telling me shortly before, to lighten up and do something fun. I think he could tell that my mission had been taking me to a particularly dark place at that time. I snapped at him when he made the suggestion, and ended up taking it as a way to apologize to him. I had no idea what awaited me. — Bruce W.

Gotham Gazette April 5, 2009 Traveling circus comes to Gotham by Bill Finger

Though known to many as a dreary city, Gotham does have its bright spots. Yesterday afternoon, Haly's International Traveling Circus set down in Amusement Mile and set up their striped big top in the fairgrounds on the waterfront.

Performances begin tomorrow at 6 P.M. and are planned to continue daily until the night of April 18th, so be sure to get your ticket to see the show while they're still in town.

Haly's Circus boasts a wide variety of acts, carnival games, and sideshows including performances of trained, live, wild animals. Among those animals are Zitka the Asian elephant, and lions Gunther and Gurbel who perform alongside Wild Wilhelm the Lion Tamer. Haly's talented horseback dancer Linda Grey does the ballet atop Dungi the Zebra.

I had the privilege of being able to interview Mister Haly before opening day, though he was very busy, and am excited to pass on some of the highlights of what he shared with me.

"We've got all sorts here," he said, "all your standard circus folk, like Sando the strongman, Pedro the dwarf, our knife-thrower Zane and his lovely assistant Zephyr, a fabulously talented group of fire-dancers, as well as the greatest menagerie of clowns you'll find in any traveling circus around the world, if I do say so myself."

I asked him what made his circus special, and Mr. Haley was more than happy to answer me. "Well, sir, our circus may have many acts you've seen before, contortionists, and magicians, and a pair of stunning tattooed ladies, but you've never seen anything like the Flying Graysons," he claimed.

The main event at Haly's Circus, the Flying Graysons, Mary, John, and their son, are widely regarded as among the most skilled acrobats on Earth, with their young son, Richard, holding the high esteem of being the youngest acrobat in history capable of successfully performing a quadruple flip on the trapeze.

As if that weren't impressive enough, the Flying Graysons fearlessly perform all their daring trapeze stunts without a net. You'll definitely want to stay until the end to catch their closing act.

(showtimes for Haly's International Traveling Circus listed on pg. 14)

#dc #batman #batfam reverse big bang 2023 #batfam big bang #fic #things i wrote #epistolary #dc robin #batfam