#friend bat

[door]

A Dramatic Salinar Bat Effigy Vessel Peru, Early Horizon - Early Intermediate Period, circa 200 BC - 100 AD

[goaheadandgetinthebog]

Several videos (independently) start circulating on the internet of the Waynes info dumping.

Bruce - the role of railways in westward expansion in the 1890s

Dick - clown eggs

Jason - tb and the New England vampires of the late 19th century, with reference to vampire literature

Cass - Paris sewer system

Tim - comparison of different camera lenses from different manufacturers, with model numbers

Duke - anti homeless architecture and how to remove it

Damian - cat declawing

After all this, a new meme forms.

'You must be this autistic to get adopted by Bruce Wayne.'

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

best thing about batman is that he's a superficially grimdark character, gothic & brooding & angst ridden etc..........but then it turns out he has a million hobbies, regularly goes on adventures with his besties, and has a dozen adopted kids he's raising with his devoted foster dad. good for him

[bet-on-me-13]

The cult of...Danny Fenton?

So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.

He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.

So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.

They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.

They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.

Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.

Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"

After his birthday, they kept up the joke.

It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.

Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!

He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.

Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."

[vespertilionis]

Tim: “Hey, where’s that scar from? I don’t remember you ever being in any fights that would cause that type of injury.”

Dick: “It’s something I prefer not to talk about. My memory of it is blurred anyway, so I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to—“

Jason, who got into their coms channel a few seconds ago: “HE GOT NAILED IN THE FACE DURING PE!”

Dick: “…How about we focus back on the stakeout.”

[ohposhers]

SHES THEIR #1 FAN DUDE ARE YOU KIDDING ME !!! shadow's literal wingman fr fr fr

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred: A old contact is sending a representative on his behalf. I need you all to be on your best behavior while he is here.

Bruce: aka, do not embarrass Alfred in front of his old spy buddies

Jason: you're the most embarrassing one among us

Bruce: How so?

Jason: *gesturing to Batcave*

Bruce: Well, at least I didn't get my city dragged into a dimension of death when I was a teenager.

Jason: What?

Alfred: He's talking about Danny. He is the young ward of my old contact Clockwork. Master Bruce has a rivalry with Danny since they were both young

Bruce: It's not a rivalry. That implies he is my equal which he isn't.

Alfred: Of course, Master Bruce.

Later in the evening

Danny: Bruce.

Bruce: Danny.

Danny: Still single, I see.

Bruce: Still ugly, I see.

Danny: Whore

Bruce: Virgin

Alfred: Danny hasn't even stepped through the door yet. Master Bruce, could you please behave for one weekend?

Danny/Bruce: Sorry Alfred he just gets on my nerves-WHAT DID YOU SAY?!

Alfred: *sigh* this will be a long seventy two hours.

Jason: What is going on between them?

Alfred: It's a tale as old as time young master. Spite at first sight.

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[deadsetobsessions]

“Oops.”

Danny shrieked.

The bloodied vigilante leaning against his wall was concerning. But even worse…

“My window!! Oh my god! Why?!”

“Your- is that- that’s seriously your first concern? I’m actually offended.”

“Oh, is the dumbass bleeding out on my carpet giving me sass? Watch the attitude, you’re half a quarter pint from death right now.”

“You’re strangely calm… about this.”

Danny gestured to his window, shattered in front of him.

“Do I look calm to you? I literally just replaced that window last week!”

“My bad.” The vigilante slid down the wall, leaving a bloody smear.

“Oh my god,” Danny groaned as he got a first aid kit and began patching the guy up. “I’m never getting my deposit back.”

“You have weird priorities.”

“Listen, bird guy-”

“Red Robin.” Bird guy interjected. He winced as Danny dabbed the alcohol soaked cotton ball harder on his cut.

“But if I had a nickel for every time a vigilante crashed through my window, I’d have two. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.”

“Who was the first one?”

“Surprisingly? Signal. Dude got a migraine and crashed through like a pigeon versus a glass wall.”

“Damn, he didn’t mention that. You got pics?”

“Pay for my carpet and wall first, and then we talk blackmail negotiations after.”

“Deal- ow!”

“Stay still, dumbass!”

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au

I love nobody knows aus.

I love aus where danny flees to Gotham after a Bad Time with his parents.

So what if:

Sam moves to Gotham for college after graduation. Tucker has flown down from MIT over the semester break to spend the month with her. They've stayed very close knit.

They're having brunch at a small cafe maybe a week in, and suddenly Sam's hand darts across the table and grips his forearm so tight it hurts.

He startles and asks her what's wrong, but she doesn't answer. She's too busy staring across the room with a haunted look on her face. Tucker follows her gaze and goes cold and still with shock and disbelief.

They're both frozen because that? That looks like Danny.

Danny, their childhood best friend. Danny who came to their freshman year of high school a little different. Withdrawn.

Danny who kept pulling away and making excuses no matter how hard they tried to engage him, who looked more tired and ragged with every passing week.

Danny who disappeared without a trace shortly after he turned sixteen and who, though it largely went unspoken, they believed dead and gone forever.

"It's not," Tucker whispers weakly. "It can't be, right?"

The guy across the cafe is older than the kid they remember, of course. Around twenty, exactly how old they are. How old Danny should be. He's tall, tall like they and Jazz always assured Danny he would be once he hit a growth spurt and into his dad's genes.

His nails are painted and his ears are pierced and his hair is a little longer, but he sits in front of his papers and computer with eerily familiar bad posture and a pen tapping at his bottom lip like their Danny always did when he tried to focus.

He looks leagues healthier than their Danny did before he went missing.

He huffs a breath out of his nose and pokes his bottom lip out as he scowls at something on his screen, and before Tucker can even process the gut punch of such a familiar mannerism Sam is out of her chair and halfway across the cafe.

Tucker scrambles after her with half coherent protests.

He reaches the table as Sam slams herself down into the chair across from the doppelganger, the guy jerking in surprise and blinking up at his two unexpected guests with confusion and alarm.

Then, slowly, Tucker watches his face go pale and the confusion be replaced with dawning shock, recognition and something unreadable.

"Oh," Danny breathes.

[door]

Hugo Leven (designer) and J.P. Kayser and Sohn AG (manufacturer), Candelabra, 1904.

Pewter, 31 cm (12 in)

[hellonearthtoday]

canon is dead I rule the world. dsmp you are MINE

dsmpblrs ocs shared between the 5 (five) singular people that inhabit this fandom

I'm taking the chance to just talk about my personal dsmp au that is basically canon if you don't think about it

I don't think we as a community wrote enough about demon ctommy. he was always my favorite it just gives him this evil vibe that I think is sooo funny and I always see it in ctommy art but never in literally any fic. and that's fine but imp or whatever-he-is-Tommy will always be real in my heart. in my head he used to be a bird hybrid, but when he died for what was supposed to be the final time they took his fucking wings and gave him cunty demon horns and tail. Death made him emo. for the sake of this narrative his wings used to be white too. Pair this with religious ctommy and you get peak

ctubbo. I think about him a lot. I think personally he wears armor under his coat. You'd think it start to get hot under there, and it does. his solution is to just Never leave the Arctic.

At some point he started developing resting bitch face, because it used to just be resting (autistic face of neutrality) but now he kind of just looks tired all the time. Not like Tommy's rbf where he looks like he's kinda pissed and has a headache 24/7. but at least they're semi matching now. bff's!!! (?) I can't write too much about ctubbo because my cutbbo is like 20 billion contradictions stacked on itself. he's not as simple as my ctommy.

He doesn't wear the red bandana anymore but he can't tell you why and he's not insecure about the scar on his face but he's not proud of it either. I FORGOT TO DRAW CRANBOO AND HIS WEDDING RINGS IM AN ANTI WHAT THE HELLL okay ignoring that blunder, their wedding rings are meant to be on their horns 💔 you can't fucking see cranboos singular (1) horn because it's out of frame, they're too tall.

SPEAKONG OF CRANBOO!!!! snakes in his hair because Hahhaa hattte eye contact????? Medusa???? get it guys get it do you guys get jut

The snakes talk to him. Take that as you will. He's a chronic suit wearer and will literally not wear anything else unless it's under or over the suit. he would like to never try anything new ever he needs this constant in his life or everything will fall apart and the world will end. He knows how to kit up and wear armor but just as a joke he wears random bits of armor in places he literally needs it least. as a fashion statement. Tommy doesn't wear any armor usually bcz who gaf he's not doing that shit

in my perfect world the egg plot in dsmp actually got used better and becsme more than a background plot. it could've been everything. anyway my dsmp au is egg war las Nevadas craziness and I'm right goodnight

[baihujun]

I drew a guest art for finch's artbook

[bet-on-me-13]

Runaway Rogue

So! A couple of years ago, Danny lost one of his Rogues.

It's not that they got Ended or anything, he literally lost them and couldn't find them. One day they ran off after being defeated and never showed up again. They were one of his Joke Villains, not posing a real threat but still extremely annoying when they wanted to be.

He hadn't seen them in Years now, and with the situation in Amity quelled and more free time on his hands than he had gotten in Years, he decided to finally track the Ghost down and see what he had been up to.

His search led him to Gotham, where he finally found the one Rogue that he had lost all those years ago.

Condiment King.

[phantomskeep]

DC x DP prompt but it's just Danny acting like an ectoplasmic Venom with [insert DC character here]

Danny, after spotting a powerful hero having trouble: Oh no! I should help!

Jason "I've-Had-Too-Much-Of-This-Shit-Already" Todd: what the fuck why am I glowing

Danny, covering this helmeted fruit loop who was trying to fight tEN PEOPLE AT ONCE ARE YOU INSANE-: hi :D We're friends now :D

Jason: internal screaming

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 314

Danny has discovered something absolutely amazing. While he can’t cook for shit, he can? Actually bake? Really well? Must be those bonding sessions in Long Now with Clockwork making all those cookies and cakes and everything else. 

But? This means he can A, actually make himself food, and B, has somehow befriended several more ghosts, including his rogues. Apparently he gave off bedraggled cat vibes when covered in flour. Or they just enjoyed the cupcakes he’d made to look like them in a sleep deprived ferver. 

But hey, he even has a decent job while he’s in (online due to medical issues, officially) college at one of the local bakery-cafes. Which means he also gets free coffee, so that’s nice too. Just erm, he might’ve gotten in the habit of handing cookies or other baked goods to anyone trying to attack him.

Look, it’s how he befriended his rogues (Apparently Fright Knight, being the ghost of Autumn, enjoys pumpkin spice cookies, who knew?) and they even continue to visit too. 

So really, it’s not his fault that there’s several goonion (honestly Sam will be pleased to learn they’ve got a union) members who are now constantly coming to the bakery. And- okay is that another undead person? Have a cupcake.