Ok, Time To Add Even More Angst Here. Danny Is Especially Protective Of Anyone With Powers. He Knows

please read the reblogs. This is crack fic at it’s finest, and I got many giggles out of it.

Ra's smiled as he looked at the young Detective. He was trapped. If he did not acquiesce to Ra's's demands, then his new friend would perish. The other boy's shirt was already soaked with his blood.

The other boy did not look concerned by the fact that he was losing blood in the slightest and Ra's wondered where Timothy had found someone too stupid to realize their mortal peril.

"Well," said the other boy as he stretched--wasn't that the arm Ra's had cut off? "It's nice to know that the whole 'elderly Froot Loop' who wants to force a teen into being his protege is something that transcends dimensions."

Timothy looked at the other boy. Then his eyes moved to the ground, where the severed arm was still lying. "No shit," he asked.

"Sadly, no. Ugh, I'm covered in blood again." The other boy--flickered. That was the best way that Ra's could describe it. The blood then fell through his body to land on the floor. "That's better."

"Oh, that's good. You must save a fortune on cleaning."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

continuation from a separate post thread (Danny is Bruce’s clone). Op said the old post got too long, so they made a new one. Had to share the new story. ☺️

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

oh no, that’s not going to go over well-

DP x DC Prompt.

Deadserious

.

>Danny had a problem. He thought he handled it well. He couldn't tell his civillian boyfriend of his half-dead status.

He definitely couldn't let him find out by being summoned by some culty wannabes who wanted to rule the world.

Easy solution: Volunteer to be the sacrifice, turn his eyes green, and act like a Royal prick and powerful being. Get rescued by one of Gothams 50 vigilantes. And claim no memory.

Boom, secret identity underwraps.

He didn't expect everyone to treat him so fragile after.

>

Damian also had a problem. That problem, being his civilian boyfriend, was obviously possessed by a spirit of the ghastly ghost king and was utterly clueless about it.

And it was all his fault.

Danny Fenton was the next June Moore/ Enchantress. Except he was hosting one of the most powerful beings in the universe.

And that lovable idiot had no damn idea about it.

I have the urge to add on, but don't know what to write-

House and Haunt(ed Home) A DPxDC ficlet.

Humans like to interpret the afterlife as some unreachable place, or some distant time. But they also like to describe the transition between living and dead as passing through gates, passages, doors, veils. And that rather implies the afterlife is simply the next room over, not some whole other house.

The thing about ghosts is, everyone eventually dies. Everyone. And most everyone stays dead. They leave one room - the room of the living - and never enter it again. But ghosts will knock on the walls, tap on windows, play their music far too loudly at two am, thump and bump and generally annoy the living into acknowledging their continued existence.

They wander the halls and yards of existence without going back into the living room, and never quite let you forget they were still there.

As a half ghost, that was especially true of Danny. And his Lair reflected it.

While the interiors of Lairs were generally contained to the Ghost Zone, they existed at the points where one reality intersected the other. Their walls were the walls between living and dead.

Danny, being both living and dead, had a Lair more liminal than most. It sauntered down side streets, and peeked into other people's houses; it made itself comfortable on the couches of neighbours, and invaded public parks. Most of FentonWorks was his Lair, but so were certain halls of his school, a booth at the Nastyburger, and the sky over Amity Park.

And when Danny moved out, left Amity and started university in Gotham, his Lair went with him.

Let me say it again - this metaphysical space of liminality, that claimed a city's whole sky, several building interiors, and nearly entire neighbourhoods - moved to Gotham.

This was a bit of problem for the local vigilantes.

There were new streets. New parks. New rooftops with accompanying buildings that could only be accessed from above. There was a mystery booth at the Batburger nearest Gotham U that only seemed to exist on certain days of the week, with a menu to a place that didn't exist and music that hadn't seen airtime since the 90's.

You could see the stars from Crime Alley, even on cloudy nights.

Granted, Danny couldn't exactly control where his Lair manifested physically.

It hovered around his apartment in Park Row, putting his childhood bedroom up the hall from his new, adult bedroom. It added halls to GU, then claimed new ones as Danny progressed through his degree. It collapsed dead end alleyways into small town green spaces, and made sure at least some of the exits lead back to Gotham.

The vigilantes particularly disliked that little feature. For all that Danny's Lair was adding features to Gotham, it wasn't removing them from Amity Park. So when you entered a "new" building from a rooftop in Gotham, the street level exit left you hundreds of miles away in a city in an entirely different State.

The average citizen adapted, of course. It was nice to take your lunch break in a peaceful (if a bit spooky) park that cancelled out all the city noise of downtown Gotham, and still be able to get back to work on time. And Gotham U was already such a maze, a few non-euclidean hallways that cut across campus was seen as a godsend. So what if they looked like they came from a movie about high school in the 80's?

It only really became a problem for Danny when his Lair opened itself a door between his kitchen, and a mansion he'd never even visited before.

Because now Batman was in his apartment, and Danny had no way to explain that he hadn't intentionally started haunting Wayne Manor.

rebloging so I can always look back and see this masterpiece-

Red Crowned Flight Switching it up from the more complicated paintings with something simple and relaxing. It's nice to let my mind go blank and let the thoughts flow like water~

The Fenton’s Ark was not something I knew I needed. I also did not need this sad trauma-

DC xDP Fanfi idea: The End and Beginning

It starts off simple. The Fentons move to a new universe once the AntiEcto-Acts are accepted worldwide. It was a problem when the USA enacted the laws, but convincing the rest of the world to follow suit left a bitter taste in their mouths.

It also made them feel highly useless.

Their youngest was a half-ghost, and after meeting the clone and alternative counterpart of said son, the Fentons family now were half of what the Acts claimed had no soul.

They could fight against the country and escape into the dead of night, but there was nowhere to hide when the whole planet hunted them. Unless you had a portal that could send you far away from the government dogs.

This was good because said dogs had managed to build their own portal. Nothing with Fenton Works tech, but it didn't seem to matter. They had a way into the Infinite Realms and planned on sending bombs through to vanquish the ghosts once and for all.

Clockwork had warned the planet's governing units, appearing in their skies and speaking every language.

"If you do this, then your world will end. Your world is a flip of ours. Without one or the other, everything will be destroyed."

His warning only further fueled their hate, and mods flooded the streets chanting for the bombs to be set off. It was like the whole world had lost their minds.

The Fentons cowered in their homes, trying desperately to get people to listen, but their words fell on deaf ears. Clockwork's reputation puts him in a challenging position. His natural dedication needed to remain neutral in any situation, but his soft spot for Danny made it hard to allow time to run its course.

In the end, he appeared before the Fentons with a message. "You must leave this world in one week. Everything will come to an end."

His warning had the group moving. They reached out to all their friends and extended family. Begging them to flee with them. Only Sam and Tucker arrived at their house on the last day, eyes puffy red, bags packed, and a daunting lack of their parents.

Clockwork sent them a ship. It looked like a glowing cruise ship, with wooden planks creaking and groaning as they climbed aboard. They were to pick a room and take shelter, understanding that once they sealed the door, they could not reopen it until they arrived.

The ship would travel at alarming speeds, protected from their timeline with Clockwork's power, but it would take everything the ghost had to keep them safe.

The final moment came, with the seven people pilling together in the largest room- The VIP balcony cabin. Sam, Tucker, and Danny held each other while sitting in front of the glass windows overlooking the fleeing ghosts- their world was also ending.

Maddie, Jack, Jazz, and Dani were in a pile on the bed, eyes shut tight and hugging each other with all their might. Tears rolled down their faces, but no one called it out. They were all mourning.

Dan stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest and leaning on the door. Despite not saying it out loud, they knew he wanted to guard it in case a ghost figured out the cruise was an escape pod. If a desperate enough ghost attempted to break through the door, their deal with Clockwork would be voided, and Dan would never allow it.

The moment came without warning. Multiple portals ripped open among the green skies. Through them, the Fentons could see cheering humans, treating the bombings like a giant festival. Fireworks, waving banners, music that thumped with glee- it made them all sick.

The first three bombs were set off. The Realms' reaction was just as instant, collapsing into itself as the humans' joys reached new levels of glee- until the holes warped into black holes, swallowing up the portal and the area around it.

One right after the other. Large glowing lights, then swirling darkness yanking everything into a quick, meaningless nothing. The humans were no longer cheering- now they were screaming. They were cowering.

But there was nowhere left to run.

Clockwork appeared in front of the trio, smiling sadly at them as multiple cracks appeared on his being. He mouths a sentence, placing one broken hand on the glass, and then pushes the ship away. At a speed that is more light than movement, the Fentons and their guests rush away, watching with horrified eyes as Clockwork breaks apart completely.

He vanishes into dust that gets absorbed into a black hole. Dan and Danny's noise is gutted, ripped from somewhere deep in their cores.

The cruise crumbles around the pressure of the push. Wooden pieces are shaken off the ship, shattering from the effort to keep itself together, and fall into the void as they watch, unsure of Clockwork's power, which would be enough to withstand the breaking of a timeline. Soon, only their room remains; even that, it starts to show glowing green cracks on the wall.

Dan glares at them, never hating something as much as the sight of them, while his family and kid brother's friends start to sob. Suddenly, everything comes to a stop.

Or rather, a large being made entirely of light, taking the shape of a human man, catches their cabin. They all stumble, thrown from their positions as the glowing white human shape brings them to its large face. It's like looking into a marble statute with no distinctive face, only the barest of outlines that could count as a face.

"You bear Clockwork's mark, but he is not with you," The being says, blinking its large eye into the window. The swirling red of its pupils baths the humans and ghosts as they stare back open jaws. "How curious"

"Who are you!?" Dan demands, stepping away from the door. "How did you survive the destruction of the timeline?!"

The being eye's dim. "Clockwork is dead then. I told him I would welcome him into my realms, but he chose to send his kin instead. What a sentimental fool."

Dan's human features melt away, and his ghost forms burst from an explosion of flames. "Who are you!?"

"Your kind calls me Speed Force." It replies after a movement, sounding slightly amused, "And I grant you sanctuary as a favor to an old lover. Live well."

With a snap of its fingers, the group vanishes into a bright light, appearing in the middle of a blue sky. Gentle clouds float around, spread out like a mist. It a daunting change from the darkness and the screams.

The group gawks at the sight before gravity reaches up to grasp the broken remains of the cruise ship within its claws. It rips from them the sky, sending them into a downward spiral.

Dan's flames are smothered out as he desperately reaches for it "I can't go, ghost!"

"Me either," Dani screams, clinging hard to Maddie.

"Speed Froce took our powers." Danny realizes, clutching Sam and Tucker closer. "Everyone brace for impact!"

They hit the ground hard and flung around like rag dolls as the last of Clockwork's powers desperately tried to shield them. The glowing green cracks quickly spread until they resemble spider webs.

They hit the ground with a loud bang, sliding through a few layers of dirt. The group is flung against the wall, Dan grunting in pain when Sam slams against him from the force.

Ultimately, the wood can't hold itself together, and it shatters just as it crumbles to a stop. They all land with pain and cries against the hard ground, in a pile of limbs and confusion.

"Oh my," A woman says, standing on her porch overlooking the Fentons. Beside her is a wide-eyed man, one steaming mug in his hold. "Pa, I think I need to put more coffee. We have guests."

Above the couple is a wooden sign with faded but beloved letters. It reads Kent Farm.

to those of you who are moving here from tiktok, from someone whos used both tiktok and tumbr for years...

1. DO NOT censor your posts

dont censor sex, abuse, suicide, dont censor it. we dont have censors like tiktok does, you wont be banned for talking about these things and tagging them properly helps people avoid them (also, we dont have shadowbanning here)

2. we dont really have an algorithm

you follow who you follow, and you see posts from who you follow or what you search. the 'for you page' is basically useless here. this also brings me to my next two points

3. dont crosstag

we get it, on tiktok you have to crosstag for reach, but thats not really a thing here. just tag your posts properly (also posters often leave more info about the post in the tags!! and when you reblog stuff you can leave your own notes in the tags, kind of like the old "repost comments" on tiktok)

4. dont expect to go viral/be famous

"viral" isnt really a thing on here (at least not for the average blogger). your posts will probably get 2-10 likes and you wont get nearly as many followers than on tiktok. thats just how tumblr is

5. blocking is your best friend

tiktok is VERY discussion based, and while tumblr is much more discussion based than other social medias, its still not a good place for ragebait/discourse. dont interact, itll make your experience worse in the end, just block and move on

6. you cant go into someone elses house and start rearranging their furniture

this is tumblr, not tiktok. dont diss old tumblr users for how they use the site or try to change them, thats like going into someone elses house and trying to rearrange their furniture. we've been here longer and we're familiar with the site and its culture, either find your niche, adapt, or find a different app

Haunting Memories

Danny is like a cockroach. No matter what happens he just keeps coming back.

Every Wayne has watched this kid die.

Every single Bat and Bird has failed to save him

They don't realize it's the same dude at first

They all just think they're having an absolute shit week.

He saved Damians life when he took that bullet

Jason watched him give his life for a kid when a bus was coming and the kid wouldn't get out of the way in time. Jason wasn't close enough (maybe they both would have lived if Jason had been closer. Faster. Better)

Cass saw the knife fly at him. She was too far. Couldn't tell to save him. She watched him fall in silence. He never made a sound.

He was at the top of a flight of stairs. Barbra watched him lose his balance. She was trapped by her chair and the daylight hours. She watched. Helpless as he tumbled to the ground, and lay, broken, before her.

Bruce was running late when it happened. His car stalled. Just as a boy, no older than his sons, ran (or flew or appeared) down the street. Out of breath. Covered in blood and bruises. Clothing torn. Bruce made to get out of the car as the boy turned and shouted. As if making his final stand. Bruce watches as the boy is gunned down by men in white. It's not until much later that he realizes the boy stopped where he, did, not because he was exhausted, but because they were running towards a crowd. That he had stopped running, had givens himself up, to protect the innocent.

Alfred held out a hand to a child. Too small and young and thin by far. He was just heading out to meet an old friend. He had no supplies, no emergency button no phone. No food to share or clean clothes to offer. Suddenly he found himself on the ground with the child on top of him, head oozing from what appeared to be a piece fallen from the building above them. The child has pushed him out of the way. His final act had been to save a stranger.

They're eating a meal in silence. All together for the first time in a long while. When there's a knock at the door. A case worker. Asking if Mr. Wayne were able to take in a child. Just for a short while. It was an emergency. He had no where else to go. They were desperate.

Bruce is tempted to say no. It's been a terrible couple of weeks. But who was he to turn away a child in need. Of course he has room. Let him tell Alfred. Just come through to the dining room when you're ready, you remember where it is of course? Excellent. We'll put extra places out for the both of you. Of course you're welcome to join us for dinner, it's awfully late and you must be starving.

Bruce goes back to let Alfred know they'll have dinner guests and is just settling in when the Boy They All Watched Die walks in closely tailing the social worker.

Chaos ensues

(reposting cuz someone wrote an awesome fic on AO3) Linking below. leave them some love if u like. they really took this snippet and ran with it!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51328789/chapters/129695641

"Cockroach (you can't kill me in any way that matters)" (in case the link breaks again)

Time After Time

Dpxdc Prompt #42

Man Danny must've really done something to agitate Clockwork. Or at least, that seems like the most likely scenario considering he has been in a time loop for days.

The first time it happened he was just innocently walking down the streets of Gotham and then boom, an hour ago he goes.

Danny's tried everything to get out of the loop. He's walked in different directions, he's gone dumpster diving, he stole Red Hood's motorcycle (that one was kinda fun), and he's even tried going to the Ghost Zone.

And every time at 4:03pm, just as the clock is about to turn over to 4:04, time rewinds back to 3:04.

It's loop #78 now, time is 3:55, he'd have been up for over 3 days straight if time were ticking normally so Danny decides to treat himself to a cup of coffee from a local cafe.

He sees a cute boy sketching a robin in the nook of a corner and thinks what the heck it's not like he'll remember me in 10 minutes anyway.

The boy's name is Damian, he's fourteen, he's there to pick up some pastries for his grandfather at 4:00, and talking to him makes Danny feel like everything's right in the world.

He loses track of time and loop #79 starts, Danny rushes back to cafe as soon as he can, wanting to see the guy he'd fallen head over heels as soon as possible.

Damian isn't there yet, but he will be soon and Danny wants to look in those beautiful emerald eyes that won't recognize him.

Except when Damian walks through the door at 3:53 and sees Danny his eyes light up in remembrance.

Loop #80 doesn't start 11 minutes after that.

Loop #80 never comes.

Prompt: Prison Break

Walker wouldn't have expected it, but one of the worst parts of being imprisoned by the GIW was watching Phantom suffer through the descending stages of violent obsession failure.

All of them were feeling it, obviously, but for most of them it was a slow decline - the pull of longing, developing over days and weeks into a sharp ache. Ember, ignored and silenced, was lashing out, kicking the glass walls and screaming for attention, even when it hurt. Johnny and Kitty, kept out of each other's sight, pressed against the walls closest together. Walker's whole body throbbed with frustration and self-loathing, needing to return to his territory and drag everyone back with him, away from this place of torture.

But Phantom, not three years dead and with an obsession that demanded that he keep everyone completely unharmed, had declined rapidly. Sure, for the first week or so, he'd been preoccupied with troubles of his own, strapped constantly to a table with hands digging through his insides. But then they'd started to spread out their attention.

At first, Phantom didn't seem to realize what was happening. He cried out in anguish and fear, trying to break open his cell and being punished for it, collapsing under the shock collar's control. Walker could almost see when he figured it out, when he started to clutch at his chest, and scribble constellations onto the walls and floor in his dripping ectoplasm with hands that trembled, trying to ease the pain in his core.

Then he started to curl up and choke on his tears, shuddering in pain whenever screams echoed down the hall. Finally, in between his own turns on the table, he started to shove his hand into his open chest, clutching his burning core directly, moans of pain rising into yells in nearly perfect unison with whoever else was the victim this time.

(Sidney had declined in nearly perfectly unison with Phantom, which a part of Walker hoped the punk hadn't noticed.)

If Phantom wasn't a halfa, he probably would've shattered into dust by now. It probably would've been a mercy.

When the yelling started, Walker almost didn't notice. Phantom, delirious with pain, for sure didn't. But before long, most of the rest of them had stirred to alertness, dragging themselves closer to the glass to peer down the hall. A troop of GIW stormed down the hall without glancing at any of them, and an alarm started going off. Phantom whined and rolled over, his hand buried in his autopsy wound while he shivered. (The scientists had tried stitching it closed, but Phantom just clawed it blindly open.)

"What's happening?" the Lunch Lady croaked. (Youngblood and Phantom were starving, and it was doing her no favors.)

"Prison break," Walker rasped. He recognized the signs. "Someone's here." He'd never imagined that it would be a relief.