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absolute superbat

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Another HC of mine is that Dick used joint naps as a sort of time-out for Damian since it both reinforced trust and got the kid to take a break. At first it worked as an actual punishment, because it was pretty much Damian watching Dick sleep for an hour... until Damian started to really trust Dick.

Damian has grown to love required naptime; Napping With Papa is his favorite activity now and, of course, his brain dictates Dick can never know this, so he never asks to take a nap and instead strategically acts out until Dick makes him take a nap.

Damian: "-and that is reason number twenty-four why I should be allowed to inflict bodily harm on whomever I choose. Reason number twenty five is-"

Dick: "Wow okay, I didn't know you could be this annoying."

Damian, snapping: "Do not interrupt me!"

Dick: "What has you so cranky anyway? Did you get much sleep?"

Damian, perking up: "My sleep has nothing to do with this."

Dick: "Yeah, no, it sounds like you need some sleep. Let's take a nap."

Damian, flatly: "Drat. I hate this."

Also Damian: "Just to be clear, are we using your room or mine? I'd prefer yours because the scent of your shampoo has rubbed off on the pillows and I think it has a calming effect on me. We will do your room. I will bring my Robin blanket, I think it has a calming effect on me as well. Also please hum when we are napping, it makes me feel like a kitten, not that the feeling is good. It's just a thing... A thing I have not felt since I was three years old if I recall."

Dick:

Dick: "...Correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling you like taking naps with me."

Damian: "You are incorrect in that notion, I do not care for the practice." *Latches onto Dick's sleeve and starts dragging him upstairs* "Now can we please take a nap already? This was your idea after all!"

Damian, bundled in his Robin blanket, cradled by Dick: "...This is the worst. I love you."

Dick: "What was that?"

Damian: "Nothing. You're hearing things... I love you."

Dick:

Damian:

Dick: "...I love you too, kiddo."

Damian, eyes wet: "I don't recall asking."

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Respondo preguntas de este AU. 👻✨

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Ay, Paulina. 😅😅😅

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Skittles-Flavored Fear

AKA "The Batfam rescue several Gotham-U students from Scarecrow's latest hostage situation. However, Dr. Jonathan Crane becomes obsessed when one student has a strange reaction to the Fear Toxin - extreme exhilaration and giddiness." Based on this prompt!!

Danny knows Ghosts feed on intense emotion to survive; he's never had to, never wanted to because it feels... parasitic. He never thought he'd be drugged with it. Sitting among his fellow students, tied up as the Straw Man or whatever monologues about his evil plans, Danny thought the worst thing that could happen would be hallucinating a dissection table. Maybe the GIW or his parents with gleaming googles and scalpels at the ready.

He doesn't even realize they're already being gassed until Danny takes a breath and tastes... skittles? Like, taffy, frosted cream, and melty-sweet syrup. The more he breathes it in, the more he feels strangely floaty. His head feels both heavy and light, stuffed with cotton, and he can barely even hear. (If he could hear, he'd probably would be horrified by his classmates screaming, writhing in terror all around him like a swarm of buzzing locusts.)

And then somebody - The Straw Man - is looming in front of him, grabbing Danny by the face, and curiously tilting his head. After a moment of contemplation, Straw Man rummages around in his satchel before Danny gets freaking hosed in the face with a concentrated dose of Fear Toxin. And then everything gets better worse. Danny feels euphoric. He's giggling, smiling, head so clouded from the high that he doesn't even notice even Dr. Crane drags him through the crowded lecture hall. Doesn't notice when two goons grab him by the arms and start to haul him toward the exit.

What he does notice is the Straw Man's body slamming into the wall. Several figures blur in shades of black, blue, green, and red as Danny squints to try and focus on at least one of them. Then, somebody - blue and black - is at his side. Danny kind of... slides down the hero's side, legs too wobbly to hold himself up, until the hero has to prop Danny into a half-laying-half-sitting position. Danny's still giggling, slurring something and his hand somehow finds the hero's face, patting it in thanks for the rescue.

It's only when the Big Bat comes over, fits an odd-shaped mask over Danny's face, that he stops smelling candy. Instead, he smells something putrid, almost like formaldehyde, sweat, and... unmentionable body fluids. Danny's head is throbbing like brain freeze and a pressure headache, nausea so intense he can taste it in the back of his throat and cramps in his stomach. One moment he's mumbling 'm gon' throw up and the next he's ripping the mask off his face. Turns to the side and... barfs on Batman. (If he were more coherent, he'd probably be mortified. Maybe even die again of embarrassment. Worse when Nightwing cackles uncontrollably from beside him. Ancients, he'd petted Nightwing!! On the freakin' face!!)

That's the last thing that Danny remembers. He wakes up in the hospital several hours later, several texts from Jazz, Sam, and Tucker saying they're taking the next flight to Gotham. Danny flops back into the hospital bed and groans. Groans louder when he remembers what happened in the lecture hall. At least there's probably a very small amount of people who can say they barfed on the Dark Knight of Gotham and got away with it, right?

(Cue Scarecrow constantly trying to kidnap Danny and the Batfam being put on Danny-watch to make sure he's safe. Maybe also trying to figure out why Danny reacts differently to Fear Toxin, but assume he's an undocumented meta with a unique biology. Danny absolutely thinks he's being stalked by Batman as revenge.)

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Ghosts of Gotham

They say Gotham is haunted.

Not just by the usual things—regret, poverty, old blood in alleyways—but by something else. Something stranger.

They say the shadows twitch wrong on certain nights. That if you walk the Narrows during a thunderstorm, your reflection in puddles might smile before you do. That if you laugh too loud after midnight, something laughs back—higher pitched, younger, aching with glee.

And if you ask the wrong people, in the wrong bars, beneath the flickering neon where the rogues drink and the bats won’t tread, you’ll hear about him.

They call him Joker Junior in the files. JJ in the headlines. The Painted Prince in the streets.

But his name was once Tim.

The lost Drake boy. The one they didn’t recover. The one who didn’t die—but didn’t escape, either.

He laughs like he’s trying to drown something. He smiles with too many teeth and talks to himself in riddles no one else can follow. And behind the greasepaint and the scars and the violet shadow of someone else’s madness��� there was once a boy who loved maps and logic and riddles that had real answers.

He’s the one Gotham forgot how to mourn.

People say he changed the city. That when he came back wrong, Gotham did too. That he left it cracked down the middle, laughing and bleeding, and no one dared to glue it back together.

But he’s not the only ghost in town.

Because they say another came for him.

Not one of Gotham’s own. Not Crime Alley born, or Arkham-bound. A boy, if you could still call him that. This one came with wind in his lungs and frost at his heels. With a laugh that froze the river and eyes that could see every version of the city stacked on top of itself like broken teeth. Glowing blue and ancient-eyed, like someone who knew too much about love and death and the cruel ways they blur.

The ghost didn’t belong to Gotham. But he stayed for him.

They say Joker Junior didn’t run when the ghost found him. Didn’t scream. Didn’t hide. Just looked at the boy glowing in the sky like a neon omen and said: “God, you’re late. I was beginning to think I made you up.”

And Danny—because that’s what the children call him now, just Danny—grinned like a god who’d waited lifetimes and said: “I thought I was supposed to stop you.”

Now they move through Gotham like a storm and its shadow. One trailing riddles, chaos, and grinning violence. The other bending light and chill, and humming softly to the bones of the dead.

They don’t save people. Not the way the capes do.

But the monsters scatter when they’re near. The haunted buildings go quiet. And the kids who get lost in the dark come back changed—smiling like they know a secret.

Some say Danny pulls Tim back from the edge every night. Others say Tim is the only thing keeping Danny from becoming something godlike and cold.

Others still say they’re both already long gone—and what walks Gotham now are just what love leaves behind when it starts to rot beautifully.

But here’s the part they all agree on:

They’re in love.

Twisted, terrifying love. The kind that warps magic and makes death look romantic. The kind that turns ghost stories into gospel. The kind you want to stay away from—but can’t help watching when it passes.

And sometimes, on Gotham’s highest rooftops—clocktower, cathedral, the burned-out pier of the old amusement park—they’ll dance.

Tim in blood-slicked purple. Danny in frostbitten black. Laughing like the world’s about to end.

And maybe it already did.

Maybe they're all that was left.

Or maybe—maybe—they were what came next. Love, haunting, and chaos in tandem. The prince and the ghost. The joke and the echo. Gotham’s newest myth. Its oldest curse. And the kind of love story you should never say out loud after dark.

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The choir shakes the walls outside of Demon Priests office with their heavenly praise. While inside his office he does the same with you, his most precious gift. The one he cherishes above all others. And the one who he simply cannot resist.

So the very moment you flashed him a look with those fuck me eyes of yours as you sat in the front pew of his morning service, Demon Priest knew a new service was in order.

With a flimsy excuse he was already dragging you into his office before the first song could even start. Now they were almost through and he just couldn’t stop rutting into you, your soft curves bouncing with each forceful thrust.

Your moans mix and mingle with the singing voices, more lovely and divine than anything he’s ever heard. Wet kisses are placed against your soft skin as he watches you writhe in pleasure with a terrifying demonic reference. So wrong yet so pure.

“Sing for me, little dove. Let me hear your worship.”

And then he’s picking up pace, slamming his cock so deep inside of you that you can feel him everywhere. You can’t help but moan even louder and Demon Priest growls his praise.

His claws sink into your wide hips because you just feel so good in his strong hold. He uses that grip to better slam himself inside your perfect fat cunt, making you feel so good that you neatly transcend into the afterlife.

As your pussy flutters around his aching cock, so desperate to cum for him, Demon Priest chants your name like it’s the only prayer he’s ever known. Breathing it into your skin like every thrust of his cock is a blessing you’ve bestowed upon him.

The sheer sin of it all has you both coming so hard you almost pass out, the force of the pleasure so intense that all you can do is let him work you through it. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, drinking your noises like they’re holy water.

For a moment the two of you sag against each other, basking in the utter bliss of your release. Until the sudden clamoring of the congregation breaks through that haze of bliss. At his furrowed brow you quickly dress and follow Demon Priest out of his office.

Back in the main hall, everyone is whispering to each other, their voices tinged with shock and awe. All of them are surrounding someone, or something, standing in the center aisle. As soon as they see Demon Priest they part like the Red Sea to reveal two long pairs of wings, their pale downy feathers curling around the figure who wields them.

As if sensing new eyes on him, the figure whirls around to face them and red piercing eyes meet… yours. A shiver runs down your spine. Every inch of him is soft and perfect, his hair as white as the clouds, and visually stunning in every way. But it’s something about those eyes that chill you to the bone and that gentle smirk that plays on his lips.

When he shifts his gaze to Demon Priest it’s like you can finally breathe. But the Fallen Angel’s smirk only grows. A deep growly sound emits from his throat in greeting and you realize he must be saying Demon Priest’s name. The Fallen Angel starts making his way toward you and the very atoms in your body begin to buzz.

“So, this is your little gift we’ve all been hearing about back home,” Fallen Angel sings, his voice as smooth as silk. Yet there’s an undeniable tension to it, an envious strain he just can’t hide.

Standing at a height even taller than Demon Priest, Fallen Angel has to crouch down to level with you. Your eyes widen, heart beating a little faster as you try and process the sheer beauty before you. He grips your chin, intending on inspecting you.

But the moment his touch grazes your skin Fallen Angels hisses, hidden fangs snapping out. He jerks his hand back as if burned and eyes filled with rage immediately begin to glimmer with deeper interest.

“How fascinating… it seems He doesn’t want me to touch you,” he whispers, not upset but only more curious.

Fallen Angel leans in closer till your breath is mingling in the small space left between you. His eyes never once leaving yours, even as the whispers around you grow louder. Instead, his wings drag across the ground and curl around you, trapping you in his vicinity and shielding you from their gaze. And in this moment it is only you and him.

“Unfortunately for you I seem to the want the very things I can’t have.”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. It bubbles around you, lulling you into a sense of security despite the warnings ringing in your head. Making you so desperately want to close the remaining space when you know you shouldn’t. His tongue peaks out to wet his lips and you find yourself subconsciously mirroring the action.

“It’s why I’m here, after all. For you.”

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This.

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First time drawing him with a bit of my art style!

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loved @aislep ’s Danny Phantom design so much that I had to draw it! I added a bit of my own twist, but the original is really awesome!!! Hope you guys check it out!

The original post:

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They’re funny💘💘💘💘💘

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Hello insane DC fans,, give me your favourite canon scars for the batboys for me to add to their face and necks

I KNOW at least one of you out there has a list of scars..also if it wasn't obvious due to my same face syndrome, the top is Dick,Jason,Damian, in that order and bottom part is Tim,Terry,Duke in that order :3

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Can you draw Danny as Alfred's apprentice? I love Danny as a butler. Danny refuses to be adopted by Bruce but If Alfred is offering....

And he learns life skills to boot (like peeling carrots lol)! Butler in training Danny is a rare gem and i’m always looking to get my hands on more! Have a doodle <3 (obsessed w ur wafflehouse danny request so trust that is in the works)

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Poor Dick :(

Commission Info / Kofi (members get comics a week early)

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when we try to befriend cats we mimic their meows and get down on the ground to their level and try to gently coax them to interact with us right

that horrifying entity mimicking human noises at us maybe just thinks we’re cool and wants to pet us?

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Hello Folks.

I am working on and drawing a comic book, it doesn’t currently have a name but I’ll be posting about it on here hopefully consist.

This is. Lucia. She is the main character and is Blind and Deaf, she has hearing aids, while i am doing as much reacher as i can on how to not misrepresent anything of being deaf or blind I am happy and looking for suggestions for her.

Habits, mannerisms, just fun facts even. I am happy to learn more about it from anyone who thinks they have good advice for it.

A bit of info on her. She was born dead and got Cochlear implants at the age of 8. She wasn’t born blind but has always had slightly blurry vision that she has been slowly losing her vision. She currently can only see about a pin brick or maybe a dime’s worth of blurry vision.

She has a few designs that I’m bouncing between, I will eventually post them on here, but for now this is how she looks.

Feel free to ask any questions or give any suggestions. I’m happy to answer and learn.