This Is Horrible, But Here You Go. Part 4 With Bruce's POV And More Misunderstandings. I'll Be Updating

This is horrible, but here you go. Part 4 with Bruce's POV and more misunderstandings. I'll be updating on AO3 exclusively after this part, so catch it there!

archiveofourown.org

Phantom & Fent- Wait that's a Wayne?! - Chapter 1 - maya_223 - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Batman’s fingers were steepled, his face a mask of grim tenacity.

He looked through the files again, wanting them to miraculously change their contents. The force of his glare bought nothing about except a wide berth of where he was sitting in the cafeteria of the Watchtower.

There was barely any information on the two that had come through a green portal, toxic and swirling like Lazarus Waters.

One had looked like a stereotypical genie, and she was the one that he had been called to handle at first. She’d caused havoc, appearing anywhere and everywhere in multiple cities in America, granting wishes that bred disorder. The second was a boy, a young man of indiscriminate age. He looked to be between 14 and 17, and Bruce’s attempts to pinpoint his age only hit him with blinding headaches.

Magic. How he hated it. But there was nothing to be done for now, except to grab a member of Justice Dark who was able to figure out what was going on. There was no-one on call at the moment, and so after sending a message to anyone who’d be able to come up, he decided to at least talk to the boy, considering that he’d chased the genie back to wherever they’d come from, to figure out who they were.

He wasn’t satisfied. The answers that the boy gave them were brief and curt; only giving the bare essentials and refusing to give anymore.

Who was she? A rogue of his.

What was she? A ghost.

Will she be back? Perhaps.

Where did you both come from? The Zone.

What species are you? Ghosts.

How did you get here? Through a portal.

Are you dangerous? He gave a smile here, mischievous but with an edge of danger underneath.

“Wasn’t everyone?” he replied.

Bruce was determined to get more answers out of the unknown, but at the moment Constantine had come in, drunk and looking like he had been dragged through a bush backwards. One look at the unknown and he paled, grabbing Bruce and speed walking – practically running – to another room.

What? It was starting to unnerve him now, the fact that a single boy was able to unsettle John Constantine, someone who was able to get into Hell without flinching.

“What are you doing?” Constantine hissed at him, fear and anger widening his eyes. He paced back and forth in the room that they found themselves in, his hands grabbing his hair. “That’s the High King of the INFINITE REALMS!”

“What does that mean?” he asked, adding this information to the profile he was building up of the ghost.

“He’s King of all of the dead! Anyone who’s ever died, who will die goes into the Realms, and he’s in charge of all of them.” He sighs then, nervous energy leaving him and slumps down into a chair. “Fuck. Fuck. Alright. You need a crash course in Realms Beings.”

Despite the fact that magic – and how he hated it – was involved, Bruce was able to assimilate the information that had been given to him. He’s given a brief history of the Infinite Realms – and wasn’t that a shock, a dimension that was literally infinite and connected to every one – and the major players of the place.

And then he got into recent history. There wasn’t a hierarchy; instead Monarchy seemed to be passed through combat. And this boy had been able to fight one of the biggest tyrants of Realms history, and had beaten him.

How powerful was he?

“About two decades ago, something happened to him. He was – harsher? He wasn’t as kind as he was, and he decided to take his rule seriously. He was fair – but his reputation tanked because his soulmate died, and he couldn’t feel emotions as strongly.” He takes out a cigarette, and before Bruce can do anything except give him a disapproving look, he lights it, taking a deep drag. “That’s bad for Realms Beings – they’re literally built on emotions, so he was named as something like a persecutor because he was stricter.”

He pauses then, eyes unfocused as he looked at something. “But when I saw him, he looked settled? Like he found something that he was missing.” He shrugs then, dismissing it, and looks at Bruce.

“I’m telling you Bats, you don’t want to piss him off.” He gets up stretching, and puts out his cigarette. “Now I’m going to have to be the one to apologise.”

He walks out the room, hands shoved in the pockets of his trench coat, and leaves Bruce to his thoughts.

A boy who’d died too young, and had been a hero based on his comment of ‘his rogue’. He’d perhaps had been forced to fight the tyrant of an entire realm – perhaps not, and had volunteered to do so. Was powerful, and knew it too, seen when he dodged the question of whether he was dangerous or not. Someone who was able to traverse through portals – and were they made through the entire species or were they naturally occurring? A boy who had lost his soulmate – was that a literal soulmate? – and so couldn’t feel emotions besides being ‘fair’. Had perhaps reunited with him, based on Constantine’s observation of being ‘settled’.

He still didn’t have as many answers as he wanted, but he had the bare minimum. He still had so many questions he wanted answered.

He walks back into the room, and sees the rest of his team in the room with the boy king. He counts them – Nightwing, Spoiler, Black Bat. He doesn’t see Red Robin or Robin, so he looks across the room to see them talking to the boy. He tenses for a second, before he relaxes at seeing them unthreatened. The boy is floating, looking relaxed, but with an expression of sadness. Damian has his wrist in his grip, talking softly to him.

He pauses. Damian – talking softly?

He looks at Tim and his heart rate ticks up at seeing him looking shocked. Shocked. What had happened for Tim to drop his mask?

He looks at the other two, and his pulse quickens as he sees them looking besotted with each other. What?

But his mind is making connections too quickly for him to acknowledge, despite the stiff appearance he’s exhibiting.

Soulmate. Damian’s shift in nature. Tim’s shocked face. He looks at the others, and sees that they look tense as they watch the three.

He came to a conclusion, but refuses to acknowledge it. No, not his youngest.

He could not be the soulmate of someone he’d just met. He could not be the soulmate of a King of an entire dimension.

He’d seen what had happened to people who had fallen in love too soon in this business. He refused to let it happen to his youngest. Not to his 16 year old.

He catches Tim’s eye from across the room and his heart drops at what he sees written in his face.

Shit.

Dcxdp #22

Danny's human half dying as collateral during a fight. That human half goes into reincarnation and is reborn as Damian Wayne. He isn't born with all of his memories but he definitely feels that something is wrong. they would get their Memories Back at about 8 and have a horrible time dealing with being an assassin. Danny would try to stick to the personality they already had before but there's definitely slip-ups of them being like yeah this is wrong and Talia thinks they take after their father because of it.

The first thing Danny does when they're not being monitored by their mom or the bat family is to look for Phantom. Phantom to have run away to the ghost Zone and has built a reputation as a merciless ruler. He's a good ruler and he's not a tyrant but he doesn't have the reputation of kindness. Damien as the moral compass of the duo is really funny to me.

There's a situation later that involves ghosts which is where Danny/Damian and Phantom meet again. I want there to be a very big misunderstanding that heroes think Phantom is obsessed with Damien but in reality they are literally other halves of a soul. Phantom keeps doing and saying things that no one else would get away with around Damien. Phantom would be saying things like making fun of his height or giving him nicknames but as far as anyone else sees Davian doesn't even flinch.

Danny/Damian and Phantom have lived Separate Lives for a while so they don't automatically fuse into one person. I think they would fuse for a few hours just to feel themselves be one Soul again but they have Separate Lives so they can't stay that way. The bat family is very concerned with Damien continuing to talk to the obsessive ghost that keeps possessing his body.

Tags

writing dp x dc dp x dc crossover dc x dp crossover dcxdp part 4 dc x dp prompt maewrites

Short DPXDC Prompts #468

Danny is a Chemistry teacher at Gotham Academy. His favorite student is Tim. He shocks the students by teaching and creating a Fear Antitoxin for the kids to learn as part of their curriculum.

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mae-mae-me

1 month ago

Down Bad in Distress - Part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

The many—MANY—instances of Bruce's bodyguard being terrifyingly brutal for him and his family and how that turns Bruce on.

Bruce isn't stupid. He knows Danny knows. It’s obvious—damn obvious—considering the way Danny just knows. There was that one time, the alley, Bruce barely holding himself together after 50-something hours with no sleep. He could barely stand, muscles sore and head swimming. And then, like some kind of twisted serendipity, Danny shows up.

Takes one look at the mess Bruce is in—Batman—and doesn’t hesitate. Not even a breath. Just pure, unfiltered instinct.

Danny moves like a blur, swift and terrifyingly efficient. A punch to the throat here, a knee to the gut there. A quick, brutal twist of a wrist. The next thing Bruce knows, the guys who dared lay hands on him are unconscious, twitching, moaning on the ground.

God, Bruce is so turned on.

Danny doesn’t even break a sweat.

"Bruce," Danny hums, voice steady despite the adrenaline. It’s a casual thing now—calling him by name, no more “sir” or formalities. It’s just Bruce.

Then, like it’s nothing, Danny looks at him with that grin—sharp, dangerous. “Ah, Batman,” he corrects with a wink, scooping Bruce up like he’s weightless.

Bruce can’t stop himself from groaning as Danny effortlessly pulls him into his arms. “I should get you a mask,” Bruce rasps, more out of breath than he should be. “Makes you less... noticeable...”

Danny just chuckles, the sound low and throaty, almost predatory. “I wouldn’t worry about that for now,” he whispers, brushing his thumb across Bruce’s cheek—the cowl was a bit damaged then— gentle for a moment before his eyes harden. He turns to the Batmobile, his gaze narrowing as he finds it.

Bruce doesn’t remember much of the ride after that. Just that Danny shut the door, locked it from the inside with an ease that makes Bruce’s head spin. Then, Danny was gone—just for a couple minutes.

And in that short span of time, Danny makes sure every bastard who dared lay a hand on Bruce pays.

Bruce tries not to think about what that means. But the sound… the crash of broken bones, the sickening snap of necks twisting the wrong way, the gurgling sounds of blood, the wet, gut-wrenching thud of bodies hitting concrete—

Danny’s movements are terrifying. Almost animalistic. Every strike, every slam of a fist into someone’s jaw, every bone-crushing hold, speaks of an intense, controlled fury. Danny is a blur of muscle and violence, one second here, the next there, and then there’s another man crumpling to the ground in a heap of broken limbs.

None of the blood on him is Danny’s.

Bruce should be terrified. He should be scared, heart racing with the realisation that this man—this force of nature—has just torn through half a dozen people who hurt him. Hurt his boss.

But instead, Bruce just feels fascinated. Mesmerized.

And when Danny finally returns, grinning with blood splattered across his face like some deranged warrior, his eyes are wild—alive in a way Bruce can’t explain. He slips into the driver’s seat, that same grin still there, as if nothing had happened at all.

And Bruce? He’s too exhausted to care. His body aches, but there’s a strange comfort in knowing Danny’s got this, got him. That no one can get to him.

Danny's here. Danny's always here. And Bruce can rest. He can finally—finally—breathe.

Another time Danny made it painfully obvious that he knew about their vigilantism—and didn’t give a single damn—was with Tim. Tim, who’d gone off on a mission for Young Justice, thinking he could handle it alone.

Only, it didn’t go well. Not well at all.

Tim ended up cornered, a stab wound slashing through his side, blood pouring out fast, dark, and sticky. He could feel it, the sharp sting, the coldness creeping in as his vision blurred. He was surrounded, and the world seemed to close in.

Until it didn’t.

Until something shifted. A glimmer of blue, a flash of eyes that—holy hell, they looked like Jason’s. But no, this wasn’t Jason. Not by a long shot.

Tim’s breath catches as he watches Danny step into the scene.

And then—shit.

Shit.

Tim can’t look away as Danny rips through his attackers like they’re nothing. A fluid, terrifying motion as he dissects each man with brutal precision, a graceful violence that makes the blood freeze in Tim’s veins. The way Danny moves—it’s like he knows exactly where to strike. One punch to the ribs and a sickening crack. Another knee, this time to a face, and the crunch of bone sounds like it could split the air. The men go down, every one of them, but not dead. No. Danny doesn't kill them.

Danny makes sure they’re never the same.

Tim swallows hard, fighting the tremble in his limbs. This—this isn’t just violence. This is... art.

Danny doesn’t leave any of them in one piece. They’re crippled. Broken. Their bodies are alive, but their spirits—those are shattered, scattered across the ground like so many forgotten things. It’s agonizing to think about, the kind of agony that Tim can feel deep in his bones.

And that’s what makes Danny so fucking terrifying. Because he doesn't leave bodies behind—he leaves wreckage.

"Hey, little red," Danny hums, a voice that cuts through Tim’s foggy mind. The next thing Tim knows, he’s being lifted, cradled with a tenderness that shouldn’t exist in a situation like this. Tim winces at the wound, trying to hide it, trying to do something—anything—but he’s too slow. Too weak.

Danny sees it instantly, those eyes of his—green and blue—zeroing in on the bleeding wound like a hawk.

Tim’s breath catches, but he doesn’t fight. He can’t. Not when Danny is already lifting him up, his hands gentle, soft in a way that feels so wrong against the violence.

And then—everything shifts.

In one second, they’re in the middle of nowhere. The next, reality seems to tear apart. Like it’s nothing to Danny, like he’s just walking through a door no one else can see. Tim watches in awe—horrified awe—as the fabric of the world bends around Danny, as he steps into that tear and pulls Tim through with him.

Tim can’t breathe. Can’t think. This isn’t possible.

Danny isn’t human. The family has known that for a while now.

But right now? All Tim can do is bask in the warmth Danny gives, listening to the soft hum of his voice, the way he whispers words Tim can’t even hear as they step further into the rift. The world warps with every movement Danny makes, every step a new layer of reality bending under his feet. And Tim? He’s safe. Safe in Danny’s arms. Safe in the strange, dangerous embrace of a man who would tear apart the world just to keep what is his from harm.

And for a moment, Tim can’t find it in him to care about anything else.

Jason’s been saved by Danny a couple of times now—he’s basically Jason’s emergency contact at this point. But it’s not just about the saves. Hell, it’s not even always about the blood and the violence (okay, mostly it is). It’s the fact that Danny won’t hesitate to fuck someone up—no hesitation, no second thoughts—just because they laid a hand on him.

Jason’s seen what Danny can do with his bare hands, and that’s impressive. Fucking terrifying, even. But there’s something else, something better, when Danny takes Jason’s guns and uses them. Every time Danny picks one up, it’s like the gun becomes an extension of him—like it was him. Jason’s watched him shoot with the precision of a trained gunslinger, every shot landing exactly where it needs to. It’s flawless. It’s beautiful.

And every time, Jason can’t help but feel this sick kind of gratitude.

His aim? On fucking point. And Danny—Danny’s so damn sure of himself, so sure that the bullet will hit its target, that Jason can’t look away. Can’t stop being in awe of him.

“Kid, you good?” Danny’s always smiling when he turns back to Jason, handing him the gun after the fight. That smile—there’s something about it that Jason just... wants to hang onto. He almost doesn’t want to take it back.

But he does. Because Danny always says the same thing.

“Take it back, kid. I ain’t using it anywhere without you. I know to not use guns around your dad.”

And fuck, that makes Jason flinch.

Danny. Danny.

For all the violence in the world, Danny’s the one who always holds back around Bruce. He’ll go feral, he’ll tear through anyone who dares hurt Jason—but never, never around Bruce Wayne. There’s no gun, no weapon anywhere near Bruce when Danny’s around. Even when it’s needed. Even when it’s called for. Danny won’t break that rule. He just won’t.

Jason once saw someone give Danny a gun during an attack at a Wayne gala. What did Danny do? He didn’t even think about it—just aimed it right at Two-Face’s head and then fucking beat the shit out of Dent with a fucking chair. Like it was nothing.

“Hey, kid? You know I ain’t as human as most should be, right?” Danny’s voice pulls Jason out of his thoughts, like he’s trying to make sure Jason’s still listening.

Understatement of the fucking century.

“Yeah?” Jason mutters, glancing over and blinking when he sees not the usual sharp blue eyes but glowing green.

“Wanna know why?”

Jason pauses, the weight of Danny’s words hitting him. He nods.

Danny ruffles his hair, that fangy grin still stretched across his face.

“I died at fourteen and came back different.”

And Jason? He freezes. His heart drops, confusion slamming into him like a fucking truck.

What the fuck?

Danny Fenton, what the fuck?!

Dick Grayson is instantly reminded of Clark the first time he meets Danny. All smiles, sunshine, and that whole "I’m here to save the day!" vibe. But then Dick hears about all the crazy shit Danny’s done for his family, and—okay, maybe this guy isn’t just sunshine and rainbows after all. He can tear into people with detached precision if they touch Bruce. He tracks down Tim like a bloodhound, leaving a trail of broken bodies in his wake just to make sure Tim doesn’t get into trouble. And, hell, he looks at all the carnage around Jason and just dives right in, getting himself bloody for the guy like it's nothing.

Yeah, Dick wasn’t entirely sure about Danny at first. Too sunny, too good-natured, too... weirdly capable, you know? But then, one day, he gets the chance to sit down with the man during an outing—on a beach, of all places. Danny’s on duty, of course, but he’s hanging back under the shade of an umbrella like he’s chill about it. Not that anyone in the family needs to be guarded at the moment, but Danny’s still there, staying alert like a hawk.

And it’s… well, it’s amazing. And a little unnerving how dedicated he is. He just sticks around, no complaints, never asking for a break. Like, this is his life now—keeping them all safe, no matter what.

“You should go on vacation sometime,” Dick suggests, sidling up to where Danny’s lounging. He’s trying to be casual about it, but honestly, the guy works too much.

Danny raises a brow, his grin widening. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Boy Wonder?” he laughs, tilting his head like it’s some kind of joke.

Dick feels personally offended by that. “Ugh! How dare you think I’d get rid of our amazing bodyguard! What would we do if Damian can’t reach a kitten in a tree? Call Superman?” Dick presses a hand to his chest, dramatically swooning like Danny’s just committed a capital offense.

Danny’s grinning back, but he sighs. “You could. But honestly, I’d appreciate the vacation. It’s just… I can’t get a good night’s sleep if I leave any of you alone. It keeps me awake. Thinking about you people.”

Wow. Just… fuck, Dick has never heard someone say that about their family. Heroes and vigilantes, they’re supposed to be competent, right? It’s expected. But Danny? He looks at all that competence and still chooses to protect them anyway. He doesn't need to, but he does. What a fucking gem.

“Not that I don’t want to go home! My sister and kids keep nagging me about it, actually,” Danny adds with a huff, fond and amused.

Dick freezes.

“You have kids?”

Danny blinks, clearly confused. “Yeah? I have two. A son and a daughter… Erm… My son, Dante, is around Jason or Cass's age. And my baby girl—Janelle—is… a little older than Damian, I think.”

Dick blinks.

“Wait, you’re a father?!”

Masterpost

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mae-mae-me

5 months ago

Ending 3. ☹️

Everyone: Happy birthday, Tim!!

Tim: what?? Holy shit i forgot it was my birthday!

Jason: yup and you’re 18 so you know what that means

Dick: jason no

Jason: i got you a pack of cigarettes for your birthday gift!

Tim: uhh, thanks but… i don’t really plan on taking up that habit

Jason: wow golly gee. That’s a real shame right there. Huh guess i have no choice but to enjoy these myself. Welp it’s the thought that counts right timbo

Tim: yeahh, thanks Jason…

Steph: anyyyway, i got a cake, your favorite!

Dick: no, gifts first!

Damian: indeed. Opening presents should be top priority.

Duke: I’m hungry and there are a lot of presents so I vote cake!

Cass: …cake would be… nice

Alfred: might we let master Tim decide? It is his special day after all

Bruce: Tim, cake or gifts first?

Tim: cake!!!

[Rolls out cake]

Tim: wow Alfred it looks great! But… and I’m not complaining it’s just… it says I’m 17

Alfred: ? Indeed you are master Tim

Tim: uhh, this is my 18th birthday. We already established that

Damian: -tt- what are you on about, Drake? Just blow out the candles

Tim: but… [sees the banner above that now reads happy “17th birthday” instead of “18th” birthday]

Tim: but… but…

Dick: r u feeling okay, Tim?

Tim: jason u know I’m 18 now right? You literally just tried to give me cigarettes for my birthday?

Dick: jason you did what??

Jason: i didn’t I swear! I got him a pair of socks, white and plain like him. Although thanks, Replacement, now i know what you want for next year i guess

Steph: tim… you’re 17…

Tim: no I’m not! Here I’ll get my drivers license… [looks at license]

Tim: but this says I was born in… no i was born a year earlier than this! Guys something is really wrong!

Duke: dude ur really starting to freak us out

Bruce: tim… i assure you that today is your 17th birthday

Tim: … today is my 17th birthday? Is… that can’t be… is today really my 17th?

Dick: yeah and congrats on turning 17, Tim! You’re finally a dancing queen!!

Duke: just think next year you’ll be an adult!

Tim: ha… yeah… next year… it’s just… i feel like I’ve heard that before

Tim: ha, must be tired. Oh well! [Blows out candles] happy 17th birthday for me, I guess

Tags

ending 3

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mae-mae-me

2 months ago

I just found the funniest font ever

Like. What is this. Why is this. Who is the target audience of this?

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mae-mae-me

1 year ago

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

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mae-mae-me

10 months ago

I cannot believe there's absolutely no way to watch free shows and movies anymore, there are too many paid streaming platforms and pirating websites have viruses and ads preventing you from watching it uninterrupted((.)) id rather follow the rules and purchase media moving forward because it is too inconvenient. Seriously, free and no ads or viruses with 1080p streaming is DEAD.

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mae-mae-me

1 year ago

I love your Poseidon, he's like that... A pretty.

These blue-black long luxurious hair, elegant beard, weightless clothes, semi-nudity, strong, slender body, small slutty waist, cute face, these little earrings...

even his horse form is beautiful!!

Pelops, I understand you so well and I envy you with white envy.