#haleswallows

[stick-art-fan-art]

Little Tim being flown around Gotham by Fright Knight for some birdwatching in @haleswallows fic "Incident Report #1: Incision, Right Palm"

[leithlovesyou]

For the single word ask game: liar

what the heck do I do if I can't find anything with that word in it? idk. have an excerpt I guess

Damian frowned. How long had Nightingale been manipulating Father? Just how deep were his claws in his mind? He had to do something. Maybe then Father would allow him to assist with patrol.

[bloggerspam]

💕💕💕 im gonna try to write a lot of fluff this month, hopefully to offset the (fingers crossed) updates to phantom pains and big brother big brother that will inevitably be angsty lmao

Cozytober - Borrowing A Sweatshirt

Ellie, like Danny, isn't really bothered by the cold.

She is a spirit of the wind, a ghost of swift winds and open air and places seen, places to be, places yet to know.

She is no stranger to freezing temperatures, but unlike Danny she is also intimately familiar with the scorching heat—of desert lands and arid concrete, burning tableaus where she can hardly even believe plants can thrive, of hot engines and the smell of searing rubber.

She is cold blooded, she is hot blooded, she is air itself, twisting and turning and roaming and sometimes stagnant and stale.

She floats like that today, in Jazz's apartment, waiting.

It is not in her nature to wait, but she was born waiting for her moment, and she fought her way out of waiting, and she is willing to weather the floaty stasis if only to feel the love and comfort and her only tethers to the earthly world: her family.

Danny will arrive soon, and he will probably indulge her on a flight around town until Jazz gets off from work, but until then:

Waiting.

It is neither cold, nor warm in Jazz's apartment. Outside it is freezing, but she has just come a jaunt through the summers of Africa so her equilibrium is still adjusting.

The heat isn't on, but it's insulated. It would be uncomfortable for Jazz, but it is not for Ellie or Danny.

It is a limbo, and she floats in it, sluggish and sleepy in the quiet.

Two more hours.

Her arms start to rub up and down, she curls into a loose sort of ball, and she spins, slow, in low gravity of her own making.

The dust motes flicker, and suddenly the apartment feels cavernous.

She forces herself to stretch, to fill as much space as she can, twisting and turning and restless.

One hour and 48 more minutes.

She might go crazy.

She twirls, diving towards the kitchen, finding nothing but tofu and vegetables, still uncooked. She's not opposed too tofu and veggies, but she also did not learn how to cook, so she makes the clearly correct decision to not mess about.

Her internal temperature fluctuates, again, and a shiver wracks through her. Hm.

Idea.

She floats up and zooms towards where the guest bedroom is, rummaging for through the drawers, finding mostly Danny's tee shirts and jeans.

There's a purple scrunchie, and a baggy black tee shirt with skulls and roses on it, and an absurdly big pair of shorts with fire patterns all over it, but no…aha!

She pulls out a firetruck red hoodie, shaking out and slipping it on.

It's big on her, but not overly so, so it must not be Dan's or Jazz's. Sam and Danny would never wear such a bright, ketchup-y color, so it must be Tucker's. the fabric is soft and thick, fuzzy on the inside, smooth on the outside. She snuggles into the collar, smelling machine oil and that weird cologne he insists on. Thankfully, it's only a hint, and Ellie's had a couple of years to get used to it, so she sinks into the comfort of it.

Inspecting the hoodie reveals a retro 70s font, wavy and bubbly, that proudly pronounces her "Furry Trash." She snorts, wondering if Sam or Danny got Tucker this hoodie, or if he bought it himself. With Tucker, you never know.

Flipping up the hood reveals it even has some cat ears, and Ellie is tickled absolutely pink as she floats around, spinning and snickering into the soft fabric.

She goes to press the drawer closed, but then something catches her eye.

It's a Gameboy Color, a beat up bright yellow one. It's got a faded wolf sticker on the back, with Tucker's name sloppily written in sharpie. Ellie is delighted that when she boots it up, it still has a green light to denote it's got full battery.

She wasn't alive during this time, but she remembers it through the haze of Danny's memories, and the tangential nostalgia is enough to maker her shut the drawer and move to the living room with her new loot.

Tetris loads up with a series of cheery low quality pings. The speaker must be slightly busted from age.

Tucker's got the top 3 highest scores, followed by Sam and Danny in fourth and fifth respectively.

She smirks, feeling settled and comfy and warm, and decides that maybe it's time she's better at her template at something.

When Danny floats through the floor later, Ellie is cursing up a storm and about to throw something. He laughs at her, at the source of frustration and at her hoodie, until he's blue in the face. She reminds him petulantly that he doesn't actually need to breathe, but graciously goes on that flight with him despite his rudeness anyway.

When Jazz gets home, she gives Ellie a big smile and hug, quirks and eyebrow at the hoodie, but says nothing about it.

This is why she's the favorite.

Ellie works on that high score to the sound of Jazz's soft cheering and Danny's obnoxious jeering, and it's good.

She decides that the hoodie is hers, and the Gameboy will be in her custody until her next visit, much to Danny's amusement. He gives her a bear hug to end all bear hugs, and Jazz gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she's off.

She beats Danny's score two days later, sitting on tippy top of the Taj Mahal. She beats Sam's score hanging off the hour hand of Big Ben the next day.

The Golden Gate Bridge (and Karl the Fog) witnesses her victory over Tucker's second place high score, her shouts of glee echoing over the morning Bay.

She's sitting on the Arc de Triumph when she finally does it, jumping up and down and squealing as she clutches the Gameboy to her chest like a precious trophy.

She loads the portal gun and dives, dropping directly into Tucker's room in the shared apartment he, Sam and Danny live in.

She lands heavily on Tucker's bed, which is unfortunately occupied by the man himself, but he'll get over it, she's light!

"Oof! Wha—Ellie?" The man grumbles, a quick glance telling Ellie it's 2am in the morning. She's surprised he's asleep at this time, but is too elated to really register the thought.

She shoves the Dameboy and the high score screen into Tucker's bleary face the second he has his glasses on.

"I beat it!!" She yells, laughing and joyous.

"What?" Tucker says, rubbing his face and looking again. It takes him a few seconds that last ages, and her yell must have woken the others, because by the time Sam and Danny barge in, Tucker has a soft but wide smile on his face.

"Hell yeah Little D!" He says, and even though he has morning breath she doesn't care because he gives her a big bear hug and Danny and Sam join and it's a big rolling pile of limbs and love and family.

"Bet you can't beat it!" Ellie finally says, in the middle of the sudden cuddle pile and feeling tethered but free, like she always does when she's got another connection to her family.

"You're on!" Tucker challenges, grabbing the Gameboy in one hand and ruffling her hair with the other.

"But first, sleep." Sam admonishes, ever the sensible one. "Ellie, what are you even wearing?"

Sam grabs Ellie by the back of her collar, holding her up effortlessly like a little kitten.

Tucker finally registers his hoodie on her, and promptly bursts into laughter.

Ellie sniffs, but she can't hold her own grin. "It's called fashion, Sam, look it up!"

[haleswallows]

Let's go, let's go, let's goooo! I had so much writing this one about Tim summoning Fright Knight. I hope you all enjoy it too.

Teaser:

Jason ugly-laughs. “Phantom is a gremlin. I watched him eat a pickle, banana and peanut butter sandwich. On wonder bread. I can't respect him.”

“Ghosts eat?” Dick mutters, barely noticeable as Phantom swipes repeatedly at Jason. The air around Fright Knight is exasperated and tired. So a regular thing with these two, Tim decides.

Phantom drapes himself over Jason's shoulders, floating and looking like an oversized cat.

“Can I tell the story? I want to tell the story, you snooze, you lose. Hi, Ghost King. I kept an eye on Jason during his sabbatical from having a heart rate. Lost track of him after the reality in this dimension shifted two inches to the left. Then a very angry Fright Knight brought him to the Keep, I can't disclose the next part because of doctor-patient confidentiality, Jason can share that if he likes. Once he was proper angry and not Pit Mad anymore, I yote him back.”

Tim has a headache. Damian doesn't look much better.

“He leaves out the part that every time he gets bored, he makes a portal and haunts my fridge,” Jason adds in a sour voice, expression matching. 

“All the food in the Keep reanimates and tries to unionize. Plus, you're the best cook I know.” The Ghost King wiggles. “Wait! Can I meet B? Pretty sure I met him for point-three seconds when he was stuck in a colonial timeline. No, can I meet Alfred?”

“Sure,” Tim says right when Jason shouts “fuck no!”

His brother opens his mouth, but Tim smoothly cuts Jason off. “They're going to have to help us home anyways. Our tech is all ghost-fried because Fright Knight went nuclear option. Damian and Dick can't grapnel.”

“I definitely can –.”

“Your shoulder is dislocated again. Pretty sure you can't.”

“Richard!” Damian wakes up a bit more, barking in concern.

“Anyways,” Tim soldiers on. “My nose is broken. Damian definitely needs looked at and possibly IV fluids. And Alfred is going to make angry eye-brows at Dick until he wears a sling. So, I vote Fright Knight calls for Nightmare and we head for the Cave.”

“A very astute solution,” Fright Knight intones when Jason shouts “fuck no!”

[clockwayswrites]

WIP game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

From @zorilleerrant with "MYTH"

M : Chattel Prod

Made Red Hood hate the man all the more. Made it easy for Red Hood not to regret that duffel bag full of heads.

Y : City Pigeons Bleed Green

“Yes,” Damian agreed after a moment. He continued almost hesitantly. “When I first arrived at the Manor from the League, I woke often from the quiet. In the League, there is always movement with guards changes and the global nature of it. It is also unwise to sleep too soundly there. The act of… fully resting is one that has taken me time to accept. But it is safe here. Father and the others would allow nothing to harm us here.”

T : A Hill to Die On

Tim was not going to blush at being called pretty. He wasn’t. Alright, maybe he was, fuck it. Fuck him.

H : Masked

“He died, N. He died. You can’t change that. And your brother… he needs to be able to come to terms with that. People pretending it didn’t happen or ‘it’s all okay now’ because he’s back won’t help him heal from it. He died and he needs someone who accepts that he did and loves him anyways.”

uuuum idk who's been tagged, but it you'd like-- @haleswallows @belfry-ghost @bloggerspam

Word is: FROG

[travelerpoetry]

!New Hyperfixation!

I've been binge-watching Danny Phantom for a day and I'm obsessed. It is literally soo good and it has started to mix with my DC hyper fixation so now I'm scrolling through the DC x DP hashtag and have been for the past hours scrolling on AO3 for Fanfics

So here are the fanfics I'm currently reading <3 includes Ships!!

'When We're Older' by haleswallows [Relevant tags: Jason Todd/Danny Fenton, Slowburn, 5+1 Things]

Blobs! In Space! by BooBean (NinaBeena) [Relevant tags: Ghost King Danny Fenton, Mild cannibalism (?), Haunted Watchtower, John Constantine, Batman ensemble, Tears in reality]

Red is Hood's Favorite Color by mango_sushi98 for TheRandomSith [Relevant tags: Jason Todd/Jazz Fenton, Ecto-Contaminated | Liminal Jason Todd (Danny Phantom), Ghost Cores (Danny Phantom), Ghost King Danny Fenton, Protective Jazz Fenton, Good Sibling Jazz Fenton, Batfamily Members (DCU) & Jazz Fenton, Batfamily Members (DCU) & Danny Fenton]

Cow Love by SIRDUCK__o7 [Relevant tags: Halfa | Half-Ghost Damian Wayne (Danny Phantom), Halfa | Half-Ghost Danny Fenton, Ghost Prince Danny Fenton, Obsessive Batfamily Members, Ecto-Contaminated | Liminal Batfamily Members (Danny Phantom and DCU), Bad Parent Maddie Fenton, Good Parent Jack Fenton (Danny Phantom)]

Send by: The Traveler

Addressed to: You my dear reader

[flowerparrish]

[Podfic] Lost My Way (All the Way to You) by @haleswallows

DC x DP: Bruce Wayne/Danny Fenton | Rated: G | Length: 12 mns

Bruce did not think he had a soulmate. At least, he has pondered before the odds he had not met them with all his travels as Bruce Wayne and Batman. The odds seemed incredibly long given that he'd been globe trotting, planet and galaxy trotting, even dimension trotting. It wasn't a painful point. Truthfully, it was more Bruce never gave it much air to be painful, never spent much time contemplating the mark of swirling stars nestled in a crown on his wrist. There was always something else more pressing.

Podded for Hales for the @haunting-heroes-creative-games Anniversary Exchange!! This was such a dream come true of an exchange assignment truly!!

[surelysilly]

WIP game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

from @haleswallows the word was STEP !!!

S: that which holds the image maintains the sincerest form of flattery (open the door)

dp au, horror

Something about the flippant tone breaks something in Jazz. She whirls on Danny and he startles, blinking, as she closes the scant distance. It’s hot and bubbling, the feeling frothing up within her — it hurdles the good sense, has her grab his shoulders, fingers twisting up in the sleeves of his shirt. Ghosts aren’t real! she wants to scream, but it’s not what she wants to say.

T: roger, zero-g, i feel fine (time burns above my head)

dpxdc, AU post-reality trip (secret wip)

These words don’t feel truthful sometimes. Rote, even, coming from himself. But Danny does love his parents. Of course he does. He wouldn’t say he’s ashamed of them, at least not anymore, but sometimes they’re just. A lot.

E: the light is gone, the light is gone (i don't need a wish with summer in my mind)

dpxdc, corpse au, danny & bruce & everyone

Everything is too much. Everything is on fire. The kitchen is burning — you can’t even boil water? Bruce blinks quickly, fluttering away tears. Danny is too close, yet not close enough, within arms reach and where he can’t get to. “Hey, look, I’m standing on my own two feet here,” Danny says grandly over the echoing hiss and pop, arms spreading much too wide. “Thank you.”

P: giving them these stories to tell (always, i'll care)

dpxdc, au of an au, post-agit, danny & jason

Pain, suffering, fear and confusion and anger. No, he's never going to forget, and he's never going to forgive Bruce either, he doesn't think. Jason rubs lightly at his throat, the rough scar tissue sensitive still to the touch. He probably could have if… if he hadn't— But no, he won't. Small potatoes again compared to what fresh hell this is, though. “No, you don't,” Jason replies. Pot meet kettle, but. “Maybe forgive, if that helps you in any way, but you're allowed to not forget. To remember and remind him forever if you want. And anyone who says you shouldn't is wrong.” “... You're a surprisingly sane serial killer,” Danny says.

*points at you, the viewer* if you write, your word is GONE !

idk anyone to tag be freeeee

[taro-jpg]

Context: tim, dick, damian, and jason were kidnapped by cultists:

"“Wonder if they knew and scheduled around it,” Jason grumbles. Maybe. Probably. It’s a pretty coordinated operation to get all four of them. Kinda sexist to grab only boys though, if Tim thinks about it. Or maybe it isn’t, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to get Cass or Steph."

--- Incident Report #6: Broken Nose by haleswallows

[crystalshard]

♫ for One Night Only 🤭

Ooooh, good choice. Thanks for the ask, @haleswallows!

Beginning with the song that gave the fic its name:

One Night Only - Dreamgirls (Disco Version)

I Get Around - Dragonette

Undisclosed Desires - Muse

Say You'll Haunt Me - Stone Sour

What's Left of Me - Nick Lachey

And ending with a couple of my personal favourite Danny/Jason songs.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

When I Grow Up

by haleswallows A string of missing children. Red Robin kept trying to debrief him on it - apparently there's a heap of similar cases across Gotham. All he wants is to find the kids, alive preferably. Human trafficking in the Alley was largely ignored. No one cares if a few poor vestiges of society go missing. Red Hood cares. The Alley is his and he's made this his problem. Which is definitely a higher priority than wasting time, letting tense and uncomfortable silence fill the space between himself and his “family”. ------- Or: King Phantom helps the Batfam solve a series of missing children cases, with a side of helping Jason with his feelings. Words: 6479, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Laughter Lines Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Danny Fenton, Original Female Character(s), Fright Knight (Danny Phantom), Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members (DCU) Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jason Todd Additional Tags: Faerie shenanigans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd-centric, Hurt Jason Todd, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Pre-Slash, is there a tag for 'primal fear to friends to flirting'?, violent therapy, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Timeline What Timeline via https://ift.tt/8zqXa0T

[bloggerspam]

And here it is, the epilogue! We skip back a little bit in this one, for some yummy deleted scenes. Thank you @phantomfen and @haleswallows for your lovely support, this couldn't have happened without ya'll! And thank you @ashrayus for the art that inspired it all. I hope I did you proud!

===

Cass observes BruceBatdad from her vantage point two rooftops away.

She hears StephSpoiler join her soon after, TimRobin following just seconds later.

BruceBatdad is not alone.

A woman and a boy stand before him, and Cass would be a fool to not remember that face, to not know who they are.

Even from so far away, it is hard to forget the woman who gave her candy once, all those years ago.

It is hard to forget her words then too.

I have a son, Talia Al-Ghul had said then, but I'm afraid he does not like sweets, will you throw them away for me?

Cass hears TimRobin and StephSpoiler bicker quietly behind her, lets BabsOracle's soothing voice demanding explanations wash over her in harmony.

JayHood's low timbre joins the cacophony, DickieWing's excited chatter echoing in the comms as he makes his way over. It is Sunday, that Sunday, brunch Sunday, so he is in Gotham tonight.

Bludhaven must be lonely.

She squints. BabsOracle starts to hiss, TimRobin and StephSpoiler tumbling over each other now.

DamianBabyBrother stands at attention, but his gaze is on them.

She waves. He does not wave back. That is okay.

DickieWing cartwheels onto their roof, gives Cass a pat on the head before wrangling the other two.

Cass observes their new baby brother, but does not get much. He is well trained. It does not matter, there will be time to learn.

"Show of hands," BabsOracle's voice is strict, commanding. They all freeze, trained in a better way, "New family member."

Immediately, all hands go up. TimRobin hesitates. It is okay. There will be time.

Cass smiles, watches DickieWing whoop, leading the race back to the Cave.

Cass waves again, but knows not to wait this time, twirling her way through her siblings.

She intends to win the race back home.

===

Alfred contemplates his newest ward as he wipes his hands.

The little one wants to know if there are any tasks assigned to him, which is new and refreshing.

This is, of course, sarcasm.

Master Jason refused to accept food without some kind of chore to exchange.

Miss Cass still shadows him occasionally, on alert for anything Alfred should need.

Even Master Duke is in the habit of asking Alfred if he can help anywhere.

Alfred had indulged them, of course, once in a while. Help them feel at ease.

The problem now is that Master Damian is not actually asking for tasks.

He is asking for information.

That is what intrigues him.

Master Damian stands quietly at attention, patiently, as Alfred considers the best way to navigate this.

"Well," Alfred lifts an eyebrow, "It isn't entirely necessary, Master Damian."

"I must earn my keep," the young master insists, "Blood son or not, I do not plan to waste away here."

Alfred hums. "Then I suppose it would depend on where your skills lie, Master Damian."

"I was trained in survival," Master Damian replies with nary a pause, "I can cook, and do basic cleaning." He tilts his head, reminding Alfred of a Young Master Bruce. "Admittedly, I am unsure of my skill level with no-one to compare to, as it was not necessary to my training."

Alfred lets that ruminate. He could have the young master help with dishes first, chat as he cooks for the family. It would be nice to have someone in residence to help with cooking again. Master Jason still avoids the Manor quiet often, after all.

"It is at least edible," Master Damian must mistake his silence as refusal, "And I learn quick."

"Yes," Alfred reassures the boy, "I am aware. Let's have you start with dishes, shall we?"

Master Damian's lip quirks to the side, small and so very familiar, and rolls up his sleeves.

Yes, this will do. Alfred smiles back, turning around to work on tonight's dinner.

Now, how much to reveal?

===

Steph watches the newest baby Wayne scrutinize Dick's somersault with the kind of concentration of a life and death threat.

It's impressive and at once entirely so sad that Damian executes a perfect somersault two tries later.

Once to get the feel. Twice to adjust.

Genius? Or training?

Steph doesn't really want to know.

It's the 16th item on the list that Damian has excelled at within the first five tries. Steph wants so badly for this little baby to let loose. He's been here for a couple months and he still thinks his stay is temporary.

As if Bruce would let his babiest bat go back to that asshole Ra's.

Talia might be cool, Steph doesn't know. Damian sure loves her, just from the scant sentences he's said about her. But sometimes love just…isn't enough.

Damian does a perfect one handed handstand, twirling around just like Dick did and stepping delicate down, and eyeing the tightrope Duke and Steph had set up for him to try. There's a unicycle somewhere in the gym, they just have to find it.

"Does this spark joy?" Damian tilts his head, from where he's perfectly balanced on the stupid unicycle and looking way too smug about it.

"It does not." He finally answers, dismounting with boring aplomb.

The next hobby is skateboarding—Tim shows Damian how to do an ollie, once the kid has the hang of standing on the board.

It is a special kind of delight to watch a trained-from-basically-birth assassin eat shit on a skateboard.

A pencil is tossed unerringly at her forehead whilst she loses breath laughing, and you know what?

It's totally worth it, especially when it devolves quickly into an office supply version of a food fight between the five of them.

They try new hobbies, and each time, Steph asks "Does it spark joy?"

And each time Damian considers, before he answers very seriously, "It does not."

Steph's gotta admit, the sincerity is what does it for her.

By the end of it, Steph loses the bet, but it doesnt matter.

Babybat'll fit in fine.

===

Duke comes down to breakfast and immediately realizes something is wrong.

Damian has been in the Manor for a while now, and it's been routine for Duke to see him making breakfast with Alfred every Tuesday and Wednesday.

Today is Friday, and Damian is at the stove, alone.

"Hey, little dude." Duke cautiously greets, "Where's Alfie?"

"Pennyworth went to fetch more eggs." Damian doesn't turn around, but he answers, and that's all Duke can really ask for. "Someone had used it up last night, without permission."

Duke whistles. "Enough of them to warrant an emergency shopping trip?" Alfie usually keeps a burden's amount of eggs in the fridge always stocked up.

"Brown and Grayson," Damian carefully says, smirking over his shoulder and obviously trying not to laugh, "decided they wanted pancakes."

"Oh my god." Duke laughs, already seeing disaster and trying to keep it all in to ask his question, "What—what did they do?"

"Apparently," Damian drags out, "They thought that eggs and flour was enough to make the batter."

Damian comes to the table, placing a perfect plate of sunny side up eggs, bacon, and hash in front of Duke.

"Needless to say, they made almost two kilos of pasta instead." He places the second plate at the head of the table. "They tried to fry some of it anyway, and ruined two pans before they realized that perhaps, maybe, pancake batter should look a little more…liquid."

By the time Damian has his own plate sitting across from Duke, he can't breathe from how hard he's laughing.

Bruce walks in, and they no doubt paint a peculiar picture: Damian, smirking and daintily eating his eggs. And Duke, curled over the table and trying to recover and succeeding at a snail's pace.

"Good morning Father." Damian primly greets.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Bruce's voice is confused, but amiable. He carefully picks his way to his spot and compliments Damian on breakfast, who nods in satisfaction.

"Duke, are you alright son?" Bruce asks, when Duke can finally straighten up take one deep breath.

"He'll be fine, Father." Damian waves his fork, "On an unrelated note, would you perhaps be opposed to pasta for lunch?"

Duke fucking loses it.

===

"Well?" Damian sits himself down delicately, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, expectantly.

They're down in the Cave, sitting across from each other at the round table in the main area, side by side.

Tim rolls his eyes, fine. No pleasantries then. "Are you considering joining the family business?"

Damian tilts his head, puppy-like, not that he'll ever say that to his face. "Which one?"

And that's a fair point. "Either. Any."

Damian purses his lips, in the same exact way Bruce does, thinking. "I am undecided. Why?"

"I was thinking that it was time for me to start making moves to…" Tim wants to be delicate here, considering the history Damian has, "…well, move on."

"Be more clear, Drake." And wow, the way Damian furrows his brow in annoyance is identical to Jason, "Use your words."

Tim huffs. "Robin, Demon Brat." Tim enunciates his words, trying not to smile at the way Damian perks up. "I want to retire."

Damian eyes him mistrustfully, darting from Tim's coffee cup, to his tablet, even to the BatComputer where Tim has a DNA sample running. "…I highly doubt that."

"UGH," Tim groans, "I want to rebrand, so I'm giving you the Robin domino or whatever."

"The Robin mantle must be earned," Damian puffs up like an irate Pomeranian, making Tim laugh for more reasons than one.

"I already retired once." Tim informs him, "Steph was Robin for a hot minute, making her own suit from a Halloween costume."

"She what." Damian's voice is dangerous, but Tim flaps a hand. He can blow steam as much as he wants, he's the baby of the family and despite it all Tim's 87% sure Damian wouldn't hurt a fly.

…Maybe a solid 66%. He'll have to run the numbers.

"She gave it up to be Spoiler real quick," Tim continues, "And then some shit happened, and though he wasn't officially a Robin, Duke was part of the We Are Robin movement."

Damian fumes in silence, which shouldn't be funny, but is.

"In other words, Demon Brat," Tim smirks, "Lots of people have been Robin. And if you don't take it now, well…who's to say someone else won't just…make their own costume?"

Tim waits out Damian's breathing exercises, patient and frankly, uncaring. He fiddles on his tablet, sips at his coffee, considers new vigilante names. With Dick now acting as Nightwing, the transition to Young Justice won't be as confusing even if he did join up as Robin, but Tim would rather not.

Just thinking about the mistaken identity issues with Dick's romantic history is already giving him nightmares. Slim as the chances are, with their builds being so different, but Tim just doesn't want to take that chance.

"Fine." Damian finally says, "I concede. When will training start?"

Tim scoffs. "You're League trained, so you'll just be shadowing for protocol. There's a manual somewhere that Bruce made, but we mostly treat it as a guideline. The Batkids have their own that they update, and you already have access to that on your tablet." Tim gives him a look. "Tell me you need access."

Damian wisely stays silent. Tim remembers that the League isn't really attuned to the intricacies of hacking and coding, but Damian has had no trouble snooping through the system from what Tim has seen. He wonders if the League just got upgraded since Cass got trained, or if Damian is self taught. It doesn't matter.

"Right. Well, Dick said he'll take you on a mission whenever your schedule is open, and you can shadow me on my current patrol, move around. You won't be able to patrol on your own for a while but—"

"What will be your new name?" Damian interrupts, eyebrow raised. Curious.

"Oh—uh. I haven't thought about it." Tim stutters. He didn't expect Damian to ask—

"Liar." Damian accuses, squinting at him.

Tim sighs. "I dunno, Red Robin?"

"That's a terrible name." Damian's nose scrunches. "A stupid name, even."

"Wha—it is not!" Tim slams his tablet down. Damian's eyes suddenly go wide, horror dripping through his tone.

"Drake—tell me you did not simply combine Red Hood and Robin."

Tim stays absolutely fucking silent, grabbing his coffee to keep his mouth occupied.

"Drake, I implore you to be better than this." Damian slaps a hand over his face, which is rude.

"Hey! That is—that is just uncalled for—" Tim pulls his cup down, almost spilling it. He swears, but Damian pays no heed to him.

"I knew you were a fan of Todd's Robin, but this cannot go on. Did you expect me to graduate and become Green Robin?"

"No! That's stupid, there's not such thing as a green robin—"

"There's no such thing as a red robin either! Unless you wish to be named after a subpar restaurant." Damian throws his hands up.

"You've never even been to a Red Robin!" Tim sputters, and tries to get a handle on the situation.

He fails.

"You have at least sixteen unique aliases with full on back stories that you successfully keep track of and disguise yourself into, and you cannot do any better than Red Robin?" Damian says, loudly, over his protests and effectively silencing him,

Tim opens his mouth, closes it. Shuts his eyes. Grumbles. "Well I'd like to see you come up with a better name…"

"Cardinal." Damian gets up, stalking towards the secret entrance, clearly done with this conversation. "I cannot fathom how little sense you have. Ridiculous."

And well. Tim hates to say it, but Cardinal is much better than Red Robin.

Gods damn it.

===

"I will name her Batcow." Dick refuses to coo. Damian is covered in blood and wielding a sword, this is not cute behavior!

How did this happen? This was their first mission. It was supposed to be easy. Tomorrow, Tim was going to take him out on patrols. The weekend after that, Jaybird was going to take him paintballing. Steph and Duke were going to teach him how to prank people harmlessly. This was supposed to be nice, easy Robin bonding!

"That's nice, baby bird." Dick tries to placate, "We can shuffle her with the other cows to their new home—"

"Nightwing," Damian's voice brokers no argument, "I have claimed her."

Dick has to wonder if he was as much of a menace when he was this age. He wasn't, surely. Sure, he got Ace in an unconventional way, but Ace was practically made for hero-ing.

Not to mention Ace was a dog.

"It's great that you want a pet," Dick tries again, "But how about we start with a dog first? Maybe a cat?"

Damian thinks on that a bit, before nodding. Dick sighs a great sigh of relief.

"I would like one of each." Wait. What? No. Nononono—

Cackling echoes in the comms, the hysterics of Steph and Jaybird loud and guffawing in his ear.

"Stop laughing and help me." Dick hisses into the comms as Damian starts flicks the blood of his sword.

"I used to put him in, in air jail." Jaybird says through gulps of air, "Y'know, pick him up wh-hen he was acting n-naughty."

"That isn't exactly applicable here, Hood!" Dick grits through his teeth, causing Steph to shriek in high pitched laughter.

"We will have to take the jet," Damian interrupts, "Batcow will not fit on our motorcycles."

"No, Robin—we, uhm. We don't have room for a cow at home—" Dick wants to tear his hair out. He's too young for this, surely.

Heedless of his words, Damian starts to gently lead the cow towards him, raising a single eyebrow.

"Okay, well. We do have room, but that doesn't mean—"

"Nightwing. Robin." Dick has never been more glad to hear Bruce's voice, "Leave the cow with the proper authorities and report back to the Cave."

"Father," Damian's voice suddenly changes, "I would like to take Batcow home."

"…Robin," Bruce starts, but is summarily interrupted.

"Father, you have missed twelve of my birthdays." Damian's voice goes wobbly, despite Dick physically seeing that his face is stone cold, "And I have not once received a gift."

There's a long silence, and Dick slumps. What the fuck do you even say to that?

"…The jet will pick you up in 3 minutes."

"And the dog and cat?" Damian's voice is smug.

Dick sighs. "I'll take you to the shelter tomorrow."

The comms peak, from the sheer volume of Jay and Steph's mocking laughter.

===

Bruce enters his study with a tablet in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. 

It's been a long day.

He’s tired, preoccupied with thoughts of Damian starting school soon. The rest of his children seem to be causing some kind of trouble trying to celebrate it in their own way, and it's giving Bruce a minor headache about it.

Talia's continuous demands of pictures and actual reports is both heartwarming and excessive, but Bruce can hardly blame her.

His eyes should be scanning through the documents that Lucius sent over this morning and is still awaiting approval for. 

What his eyes catch on instead is a new addition to his Gray Ghost shelf. 

It’s an action figure of the eponymous hero, one in almost pristine condition. A first edition. 

Inside the cloche with the Gray Ghost gun is a miniature version resting just beside it. The RC car also has a miniature version perched next to its front wheel. Between the trilby and the goggles lay two hands and a miniature case of the first DVD release.

He tilts his head, feeling his eyebrow raise and a smile crawl up as he picks up the action figure to inspect it. It looks old, but clean. Not quite used, but not sitting on a shelf either—there’s little knicks here or there. Perhaps found in a garage sale somewhere? It’s not even his birthday—still, the gift warms his heart as anything involving his children does.

Now, which one of his kids did this, he wonders?

No matter, he’ll find out soon enough. His children are terrible at keeping secrets, and he isn't Batman for nothing.

He places the figure gently back down in its place, and settles in for the long haul.

===

Talia sits, straight backed with her legs crossed in a highly uncomfortable chair.

Next to her, her Beloved looks lovely in his turtle neck and slacks, comfy, even.

She looks around the room, noting the whiteboard and assortment of small desks behind them,

There are motivation posters, and informational ones with equations listed upon them.

Talia refrains from scoffing, but really, what is the point of putting the answer up on the wall? How will they learn if they have such a crutch?

"Now," The portly man sitting across from them behind a large desk coughs to clear their throat, "Damian has shown high intelligence, his grades are top of the class and he has shown such high promise that the other teachers and I have discussed whether or not it would be beneficial for him to move up grades."

"I believe the principal and I already had this conversation, Mr. Porter." Bruce smiles, but it isn't the nice one, "Dami has always been a smart boy, but he was home-schooled, and we were more concerned about his socialization."

"Ah, yes. Well. The girls in the class seem to find him charming, albeit stoic. He is gentlemanly for his age, and doesn't really participate in…" Mr. Porter coughs once more.

Talia rolls her eyes. "In idle immaturity?"

"Well, yes. It's just—well," Mr. Porter tugs at his collar, "It's just boys being boys really."

"Has he made any friends? Of either gender?" Bruce asks, giving Talia a warning look. She shrugs, putting on her best innocent smile.

"Oh! Yes, one boy, Colin Wikes." Mr. Porter takes out a handkerchief to wipe his brow, "They seem to get along, in their own quiet way."

"That's lovely!" Talia's voice goes high, fake. Bruce winces, but she ignores him, "So his grades are up, he's made a friend, and overall he's popular with the ladies!"

"W-well, yes, but the other boys—"

"Now, now. Bruce is a lady-killer himself, and he managed to figure out male friendships eventually!" Talia simpers,"He had such a close friendship with Harvey Dent after all, before that whole...fiasco."

Bruce sighs, but again, Talia ignores him. "Now, I hear that my son has a talent in art? I see that none of them are hung up—"

This is very important business after all.

No-one can stop her from achieving her mission.

===

Jason opens his door carefully, quietly.

His traps have been disabled and reset, and Jason can only think of two people who would do that.

Both of them came from the League, and both of them don't take kindly to being startled.

He drops his work bag, the one for his mechanic's job, down in the entrance way. He takes of his heavy boots and treads silently through the apartment to find out which sibling came to visit.

He's greeted by Damian, asleep on his couch with an open and currently in danger of falling copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Jason quickly tiptoes over, grabs the book before it can fall to the ground, grabbing the kid's bookmark—a pressed flower that Cass made for him—and placing it to the side.

The fact that the kid hasn't woken up is testament to their time in the League.

Jason's been getting bits and pieces back, ever since he got shot and saw double vision of Damian and a younger version of the kid administering first aid to him.

Talk about shock therapy.

It's not all that pleasant, the memories.

He remembers the grueling training, the pain and anguish and fear of not remembering. Not knowing who he was, knowing Robin was important, not knowing what to do.

But not all of them are bad.

He remembers forcing Damian to brush his teeth for longer than 2 minutes, remembers tucking the tyke in with the bear, even the figure.

He remembers various missions, where he would pick up Damian and carry him to the nearest food stand to make him try an assortment of street foods with a series of flailing movements. Remembers the feeling of accomplishment and pride whenever the little guy would express it was adequate, because that was as good as a 5 star rating.

He remembers carrying him, hastily packed duffle bag and all, and thinking Gotham, Gotham is the safest place to be but not knowing why.

Mostly he remembers watching Damian sleep, peacefully, like he is now.

Because it's novel, then and now, how Damian trusts him enough to do it.

He sits himself down for a moment, always a little woozy when memories come surfacing up, breathing deep and leaning back. It's getting easier to remember, and Leslie had said it would stop eventually, so he weathers it out.

A second later, something warm thumps into his lap.

Damian has his head there, hands fisted like kitten's paws, curling up like a little ball.

Jason sees double, triple, memories and memories of watching this boy sleep and feeling honored and responsible and attached to him.

Brothers in arms, Talia had said, back when he wasn't quite himself, but wasn't Damian's Robin anymore either. You have a brother—

Jason had cut her off then, yelling that no replacement could ever be his brother.

He had eaten his words then, and he's eating them now too.

He lays a hand on Damian's back, rubs up and down his tiny shoulder blades, the way Bruce did when he was first adopted.

Brothers indeed.

He shuts his eyes, just for a moment, to breathe in the peace.

He falls asleep like that, dreaming of teddy bears and robins, and deadly, deadly assassins.

some jasons and damians thats been piling up :]

(and tim and alfred the cat)

[shamelesslymkp]

REC: haleswallows - Incident Report #7: Broken Rib Puncture Wound

URL: https://ift.tt/UFZlO6k Superboy hisses. His hands are covered in Tim’s blood, and he struggles to peel back the armored layer of the Red Robin suit without jostling the rebar through his thigh or what is most definitely a broken rib. Ouch, Tim would like to say. But you know, priorities. He focuses on breathing and staring at the sky right over Kon’s shoulder.

(Words: 3,152) | Part 7 of Tim's Secret File on Ghost Summoning !!!fandom, !!fic, |site:ao3, +fandom:batman.-.all.media.types, +fandom:danny.phantom, ::rating:general.audiences, ~author:haleswallows, character:tim.drake.(dcu), character:fright.knight.(danny.phantom), character:kon-el.|.conner.kent, character:bart.allen, character:dick.grayson, character:cassie.sandsmark, character:bruce.wayne, relationship:tim.drake.(dcu).&.fright.knight.(danny.phantom), relationship:tim.drake.&.kon-el.|.conner.kent, relationship:tim.drake.&.dick.grayson, relationship:bart.allen.&.tim.drake.&.kon-el.|.conner.kent.&.cassie.sandsmark, ::category:gen, \no.archive.warnings.apply, ~ao3:canon-typical.violence, ~ao3:accidental.summonings, ~ao3:bad.parent.jack.drake, ~ao3:bad.parents.jack.drake.and.janet.drake, ~ao3:crack.treated.seriously, ~ao3:not.beta.read, ~ao3:vague.description.of.injuries

[haleswallows]

Uwu what's this? A totally random smutty one-shot that I wrote instead of working on my multiple WIPs?

Enjoy!

Teaser:

Something boils under Jason's skin. He feels half-mad with it. Restless and on edge, he loops around Crime Alley for the upteenth time, head on a swivel. Sticky summer night air whips past as he grapnels but it does nothing to soothe him. Jason only feels more feverish in his wild hunt.

He doesn't even know what he's hunting for.

All Jason knows is something feels wrong. Like the bad feeling before an accident, or an Arkham Asylum breakout. That anxious feeling before Jason springs into action.

He drops into an alley, boots heavy and stands from the crouch. Then freezes.

The creature is… ethereal. That's the only word Jason can think of. Glowing softly, hair pure white and floating around its head. It appears male, lithe and muscled with a swimmer's build. And even though it floats, Jason can tell he has a good head and shoulders over it, maybe more if it puts its feet on the ground.

It whips around at the sound of his boots on the alleyway’s ground. And for a moment, Jason's pinned by its bright green eyes. Not Lazarus Water green, but close. Cleaner, brighter. And framed by white eyelashes. It tracks him closely as he approaches.

It’s otherworldly and beautiful, like a glimpse of the Milky Way. Jason is entranced, drawn in, like a moth to a flame.

Then it opens its mouth.

“Hi, hello! Woah, you are way bigger in person. Like way bigger. Impressive, hot and yet terrifying. Big fan, bee-tee-dubs.” There’s an echoing quality to its voice that sends a thrill through Jason. It tilts its head as he nears and gestures to itself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Phantom. Danny Phantom, he/him.”

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Between a Rock &amp; a Dragon's Egg

by haleswallows A new High Chief, unknown and a mystery despite all attempts to gather information. A fearsome person. No knight or warrior or mage had been more than an inconvenience to Pariah Dark in battle. It raised only more questions who Phantom could be. Timothy Drake-Wayne, third prince of Gotham, refuses to let the peace talks fail, even if that means sacrificing himself. ○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○ High Chief Phantom freed the Infinite Lands from Pariah Dark’s tyrannical rule. He broke the thrall on the dragons, ended the war. But now a wasting disease plagues the dragons, and his people are suffering from the fallout of the War. Desperate for a solution, Phantom just wants peace. Somehow, Danny Phantom gets more than he bargained for. Words: 6678, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Danny Phantom, DC Extended Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Drake, Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Dan Phantom, Valerie Gray, Dorathea "Dora" (Danny Phantom), Fright Knight (Danny Phantom), Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Oliver Queen, Diana (Wonder Woman), J'onn J'onzz, Duke Thomas, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Batfamily Members (DCU), Original Characters, Vlad Masters, a good smattering of characters from both DC and DP but not major idk there's lots of people in this Relationships: Tim Drake/Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Dan Phantom & Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Tim Drake & Valerie Gray Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Soul Bond, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Political Marriage, Alternate Universe - No Powers, No Heroes, POV Multiple via https://ift.tt/p8qJ1ZV

[lavenderek]

@haleswallows thats an unused sketch youre not haunting yourself