"YOU HAVE THREE WISHES," The Genie Says Grandly. "Oh No, That's Fine I Don't Need All Three. I Just Wanted

Bruce Wayne would fear Kyouko Mogami.

Not bc she could down him, bc he saw the Ren Tsuruga doll and heard her say it was to scale, down to the bones.

This young woman went and learned everything about this man and then proceeded to make a doll of him. A hyper realistic, to scale, doll.

Tbh Bruce would probably have to hold Tim back from trying to ask her to learn that.

To make my point clear, Kyouko recognized Ren bc of his bones in the manga. Like he was acting as an american actor (a scary one) and bc she recognized him she had to be given the role of the american actors sister. She had to act so she didn’t accidentally out him.

This is my favorite fact about Kyouko ❤️

Ghost of a Chance

Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.

Or something very much like one.

It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.

The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.

"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.

The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.

Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.

And always too thin.

It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.

Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.

And so began his campaign.

At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.

Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:

“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”

He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.

Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.

Then came the night it changed.

A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.

He left the beacon on the rooftop.

“Help him. Please. –A.P.”

Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.

“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”

“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”

“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.

“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.

“…Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”

Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.

“Danny. My name’s Danny.”

“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”

Salesman Danny

My brain did that thing where it just says "Hey wouldn't this be funny?"

There was a knock on the door. The room fell silent, nobody knocked on this door. People either entered because they could, or were summoned and then let in.

Ra's, slightly more intrigued than annoyed, told the person to enter.

The door opened, in came a tall man with a rather big box pulled behind him.

"Hello, thank you for having me!" The man glanced at the lazarus pits and slightly crinkled his nose before turning back to Ra's.

"It's good I came now, before it's too late and your pool of ectoplasm gets more corrupted. In this spirit, may I present you the Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0! For all your filtering needs! If you buy the Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0 subscription we will even come by to change the filter container each quarter." He pulled out what looked like a big pool filter, with added boxes, the boxes had green lines and Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0 was painted over the side above the highest line.

"I could give you a demonstration, however with how contaminated your ectoplasm pool is it will take a while to fully filter it." Ra's decided to just let the man talk, giving him a nod. He watched as the filter was placed to the edge of the lazarus pool, half submerged before a button was pressed and a low humm was heard.

Lazarus water was pulled into the filter and after a minute what appeared to be lighter colored lazarus water flowed out from the other side.

"The filter can be mounted to the side like it is now, or it can float around with the added floater. If children use your ectoplasm pool I would recomend the mounted version to protect both the filter and the child from accidental damage. We do give out a 20 year warranty with every Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0, we would give out longer warranties but in case of a newer and improved filter being invented in the next ten years it is reccomended to upgrade rather then repair!"

The man stood up again, letting the filter push out the rest of the lazarus water before wiping it with a cloth that seemed to also be Fenton branded. He walked over to Ra's, opening one of the boxes on the filter to show a slime-like substance that had a dark, near black, green color.

"As you can see your ectoplasm pool is very contaminated, as such I would reccomend a monthly filter clear instead of quarterly, don't worry about the contamination itself, we have a contract with the Infinite Realms and the Far Frozen to fully recycle it!"

"Recycle?" Ra's eyed the man, maybe this filter would get rid of the problem of the less and less effective pits.

"Yes! A small part will be used for research for better filtration systems, a rather big part will be used to test new medicines against corruption in Ghosts and whatever can not be used will be put into the cleansing sprout in the Infinte Realms to make sure nobody gets corrupted by accident!" He clapped his hands after he put the filter back into his box.

"If you want I can leave a pamphlet with you for other inventions and services Fenton Works offers for Liminals and Ecto Entities! We do also have a website for better overview! I would reccomend you the Fenton Ecto Cleansing Shots to get rid of the contamination in your own ecto, it works wonders and can be injected if you would rather not drink it." He opened the pamphlet and showed a small vial with light green lazarus water, calm. Next to it were two injectors, one manual and one automatic.

Ra's took the pamphlet, calmly looking through it. Two older generations of Fenton Ectoplasm Filters were in it, as well as a few other things to cleanse ecto, some circle that advertises as a floating device, as well as three generations of Fenton Thermos at the end. Those were advertised as both an ecto holding device as well as a container for mean spirited Ecto Entities.

"You sell all of this?" He looked at the man again, aside from being even taller than Ra's himself he looked rather unassuming.

"Yes! There is an order label at the end as well, we deliver per Portal so there are transportation costs listed but we do always deliver on time! Our website had more services as well, now would you like to purchase the Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0 with subscription?" Ra's looked back into the pamphlet, the filter was expensive, the subscription as well, but it wasn't money he couldn't easily spend.

And if it did turn out this filter would get rid of his problems it was money very well spend.

"I just have to fill out this little form here?" The man seemed to jump towards him with a wide smile, showing fangs and a bit too many teeth.

"Yes! If you would just cross off what you want to purchase I'll take the order with me now and you'll be guaranteed delivery and installation tomorrow! Please show proof of payment upon delivery for no delays."

Damian stared at the lazarus pool, it was calm and a lighter color than usual, the only difference in surroundings was the lowly humming filter at the edge. He looked towards his grandfather while holding his hurt arm.

"Do go on Damian." So he did, the lazarus pit he knew to be bubbling was now calm like a lake. He felt the difference when he stepped in, it wasn't like the water tried to pull him under. His arm healed faster than it ever did before. His mother smiled, his grandfather looked pleased.

"It was worth investing into Fenton Works, genius inventors, their son is around your age Talia."

"Mother already has father, grandfather!" Damian protested as he climbed out of the pool.

"Yes of course, Damian. How is your newest aquisition doing dear daughter?"

"Jason is doing fine, he seems to take well to the online therapist you found for him." Ra's looked content as he thought about the website he had visited after Danny had sold him the filter.

Truly a masterpiece of a business. The front and center their inventions, a side for cyber security and programs, a shop for plants and plantcare services, as well as a therapist. Fenton Works was a marvel he gladly invested in. And if that meant he would get early access to their inventions? Well, he did like the new shield around his bases.

DpxDc #5

Everywhere but home.

The Anti-Ecto Acts applied only to North America.

The USA and Canada both permitted the capture, experimentation, and termination of ecto entities.

One night, after weeks of being constantly hunted down, Danny decided it was time to leave the continent.

At first, he was terrified. 

He didn’t even need false documentation, since the GIW wasn’t looking for his human identity, and Jazz helped him get everything he needed.

He… didn’t even have to buy a flight or something, since his speed could get him anywhere.

So, a bit anxiously, he traveled down to South America.

He had a pretty good time!

People were friendly and welcoming, excited to share the beauty they had with them and Danny found himself so much more interested in other cultures.

Being surrounded by languages, Spanish, Portuguese, and even some Indigenous ones became much easier to learn.

Traveling around wasn’t a problem, he often found people happy to take him in for a shower and a meal.

It wasn’t safe all the time, but it wasn’t because he was a ghost, which was somehow nicer.

With much less anxiety, he started to travel even more.

Africa was the obvious choice since it was the closest continent.

The main cities were rich with people and modern buildings, making him feel a bit out of place like he was in a cleaner version of Hollywood.

Going away from touristy sites, everything started to become more bare, the people still welcoming, but weary of noisy strangers. Wich was understandable, so next came Asia, then Europe, Australia, and Antarctica.

By the time Danny was in his twenties, he had pretty much visited almost every country on Earth. 

He was having fun, he really was, but in every new country he visited, he was reminded how much he wished he was waking up in his bed, spending the days with his family and friends.

Once, he met a guy in London, whose soul looked like Swiss cheese, that he helped with some ghost stuff. He was recognized as from America, so he explained what he was doing all the way in England. Apparently, the guy had connections with the Justice League and promised to help.

At several spots, he even met with Dani. Every time they saw each other, they remembered that, even if it was so diverse, the World was still very small.

He was in South Italy when his phone rang.

It wasn’t hard to keep in touch with his friends and family, sending them photos or even packages of stuff he found traveling.

He answered Jazz, as she started to cry happily about the Anti-Ecto Acts being revoked.

He… hadn’t actually believed Jonh.

His mind was blank, with her sister excitedly talking over the phone.

After five years.

He could go back home.

fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heart’

Danny on Phone: Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up, please Jazz for once in your life pick up the phone- Jazz's Voicemail: The number you have dialed is not available. Please leave a message- Danny: NO! Ugh, okay, hey Jazz, it's ya boi, Danny. Could you come to Gotham and pick me up, please? Now I know I said I could handle the summer internship, and I know you said that it was a dangerous city, and you were right, so you don't have to gloat, but I really need you to come get me, okay? Code: Green Dog. If you call back and I don't answer, they got me. Love you. Tim waiting patiently, tied up in front of Danny: Does this "Jazz" not answer their phone often? I'm sorry, it's really frustrating when they do that. Danny: She usually has her phone on Do not disturb at this hour-wait! Stop trying to emotionally connect with me, I kidnapped you! Tim: I'm not trying to emotionally connect with you. I'm just making conversation. Danny: Well, stop it! Tim: Why? Danny: Because you don't have casual conversations with your kidnappers! Tim: Really? I always do whenever I get kidnapped. Plus, you've been rather considerate. You only tied my ankles and wrists together, and when you threw me into the truck of your car, you put in a pillow for my head. Danny: How....how often does this happen to you? Tim shrugging: Once or twice a week. Danny: A WEEK!? Tim: Why did you take me anyway? Danny: Um, you know Phantom- the ghost guy? He overheard the Mad Hatter bragging about using mind control on the Waynes. He ordered them to kill you in your sleep, but when I tried to warn your security team, they didn't believe me. I took you to protect you. Tim: I see. And how does "Jazz" fit into all this? You already had me in the trunk of a getaway car. Danny: First of all, it's not a getaway car. It's a rental, and the Mad Hatter put a hit out on us. We have to leave the city, which would be tracable in a rental. Tim: Hmmm. Is this the part where you knock me out before you tell me not to fall in love with you? Danny, horrified: No. Tim: Pity.

it spring :)

Tim Drake: Parent by Circumstance, Dad by Choice

Tim had met Dani and Dan months into dating Danny, when they were already deep enough in their relationship that meeting Danny’s… kids (wards? clones? complicated existential crises?) felt like a natural progression.

They were, for all intents and purposes, Danny’s, no matter how strange their origins were.

And Tim?

Tim adored them.

Dani had taken to him immediately. She was smart, resourceful, and had the kind of cunning that made Tim terrified for when she grew up. She was all wild energy and big grins, full of trouble and ready to recruit Tim into it. Which, well—he was a Bat. He might not have the same mischief-making instincts as her, but he knew how to scheme.

Danny had sighed the first time he caught them conspiring, giving Tim a deeply exasperated look as Dani snickered behind his back.

“You’re supposed to be the responsible one,” Danny grumbled, arms crossed.

Tim had only blinked at him. “Why would you assume that?”

Dan, on the other hand, was rougher, quieter. More hesitant in a way that made something in Tim’s chest ache. He was wary at first, slow to warm up to Tim in a way Dani wasn’t—but Tim understood. Dan had sharp edges, but Tim had spent enough time around Jason to know that just meant he needed patience.

Which was fine, because Tim had plenty of it.

Besides, it helped that they liked him. Dani loved that he didn’t snitch when she roped him into pulling pranks on Danny, giggling wildly when they switched out the sugar for salt and watched Danny spit out his morning coffee with distaste.

So he didn’t push. He let Dan take his time, let him get used to having Tim around. The turning point had been, funnily enough, when Dan asked Tim to teach him how to fight.

Danny had sighed about that, too, shooting Tim a pointed look that was probably supposed to convey Do not encourage him.

Tim had ignored it.

Because what was he supposed to do? Say no?

He wanted Dan to know how to fight. To know how to protect himself properly. It wasn’t like he was teaching the kid how to snap someone’s neck—he was teaching him good habits. Controlled movements. Defense. Dan needed that, and Tim was happy to provide it.

Danny could roll his eyes all he wanted, but he wasn’t stopping Tim.

Dan, predictably, thought Tim was the best after that—well, second best. Jason had somehow stolen first place. Tim wasn’t even mad about it. Dan would sit next to Jason with wide, fascinated eyes, soaking up his stories and nodding along to every dramatic retelling of a fight. (“And then I threw the guy through the car door—” “Did he live?” “Unfortunately.”)

Tim was fine with being second place. Really.

—

Tim had almost been caught with the ring twice.

The first time, Dani had nearly found it when she tackled him over the couch, scrambling over him with zero regard for personal space. If he hadn’t been fast in twisting out of her grip, the box would’ve gone flying across the room.

The second time, Dan had almost seen it when Tim went digging through his duffel. The box had nearly slipped into view when he yanked out a hoodie, and Tim had barely managed to shove it under his gear before Dan could get a good look.

But the third time?

Dani found it.

Because of course she did.

Tim had been distracted—exhausted from patrol, too caught up in the warmth of Danny’s hands pulling him in by the waist. He’d tossed his jacket onto the couch, thinking nothing of it.

Dani had been snooping.

He didn’t even realize until later. She didn’t say anything. She just gave him a look—one that was far too knowing for someone her age—but she didn’t mention it. She just tucked the ring back where she found it and let the subject drop.

For now.

But later, when the house was quiet and everyone else had gone to bed, she sat beside him on the couch, feet tucked under her, eyes flickering to him with something unreadable.

Then, in a casual voice, she asked, “Hey… can I call you Dad?”

Tim froze.

His breath caught, and something in his chest lurched.

He turned to her, eyes wide, trying to process what she just said—what she just asked—but before he could even begin to figure out how to respond, Dan, from where he was leaning against the arm of the couch, just shrugged.

“Yeah,” he muttered, gaze a little too pointedly not on Tim. “You’ve earned it, I guess.”

And Tim—Tim had to swallow past the sudden tightness in his throat, had to blink fast against the prickling behind his eyes. He cleared his throat, voice rough as he said, “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Dani grinned, throwing herself at him without hesitation. Tim huffed as he caught her, laughing as she clung to him like she was sure he wouldn’t let go.

Dan rolled his eyes. But his lips curled up, just slightly.

Tim had never been happier.

You know how there’s the trope of Tim having to carry Dani/Ellie like a pregnancy until she stabilizes? I want that but with Dick.

Give me screaming, crying, emotional Dick Grayson. He’s pregnant and he’s not afraid to let everybody suffer for him! Emotional control who? He’s pregnant, he doesn’t have to hold anything back.

„Those aren‘t the right chocolates!“

„What do you mean I look fat?! I am carrying a baby! I‘m creating life! You have no idea what it’s like!“

„I hate you! You will never see your grandchild! That’s what you get!“

Give me screaming crash out Grayson, with waterworks and everything. Meanwhile Danny is coming in the few calm moments to look if everything‘s okay, absolutely oblivious to the stress the rest of the family is under.

„What no! I‘m fine, you don’t have to stay, it’s only a few more months. Call me when you get back to your castle? Love you, bye!“

Damian hides in his room bc Dick keeps hugging him and not letting him go, crying about his baby growing up too fast.

Jason came by once to laugh and promptly got forced to cook for Dick, then he had to feel his stomach and listen to Dick tell him how perfect his baby is. All while Damian struggled to get free. They got saved by Tim asking about the babies room in the manor.

Bruce is on such fragile ice right now, he once breathed wrong and got pelted by pillows until he left the room. He is also the first to spend a fortune on baby safety so he could make the manor not blacklisted by Dick for visits.

First Visit

OG

In a series of unknown events Jason woke up to something warm and vibrating on his chest, as well as what he belatedly recognized as purring near his face.

Opening his eyes he found a fluffy black cat on his chest, doing what Damian had called a "perfect cat loaf" once when showing him a picture of Alfred the cat. Rubbing his eyes he stared at the cat, he didn't have a cat.

Bedroom door? Closed.

Window? Closed.

How did a cat get in here? Did Damian need to hide a cat and forget to tell him? He shuddered as he was reminded of that one time out of many in the league where he woke up with some kind of lizard or snake suddenly in his room.

Well, the purring was nice, and Jason knew as well as anybody that you didn't disturb a napping kitty. Reaching over to his nightstand he looked at his phone, no new messages from his family, a pic from Roy with Lian did make him smile at least. Opening the chat with Damian he took a photo of the cat and sent it with the caption " This yours?"

He saw that the message got read, then nothing, okay then.

"Yip!" Suppressing a flinch and clutching his phone, so he didn't throw it, he snapped his head to the side and saw a small, green puppy leaning its head on his mattress while staring up at him.

Slowly Jason turned his phone to snap another picture, this time of the dog, before sending it to Damian with a "What the fuck?" - read again, then nothing. The puppy whimpered. Jason glanced at it again. The puppy seemed to stand on its hind legs while his front legs were now clawing at his mattress so he could get up on the bed.

"The brat owes me so much, up you go, be nice to the cat." Helping the dog up with one hand while trying not to jostle the cat was a bit of a struggle with the pup squirming so much. But as soon as the puppy was up he walked over to the cat, laid his head down on his front paws and gave small licks to the cats' side.

The cat opened its eyes, an intense green, nearly glowing, turned to the dog, gave him a lick over his nosebridge and then went back to napping.

The puppy jumped up, proceeded to hit Jason square in the face with his fast wagging tail and then gave playful growls to the cat, obsiously wanting to play.

The cat ignored it.

The puppy suddenly pounced, making the cat roll off Jasons chest with a squaking meow before it landed on its legs and proceeded to jump off the bed towards Jasons legs and then to the ground. The puppy followed, happily yipping at the cat. White botted paws now visible as Jason feared the worst, but before he could do anything the cat suddenly stilled, ears flickering.

The puppy tilted its head, gave the cat a lick before the cat swished its tail into the puppies face and bolted through the wall out of the bedroom.

Well... that explained how it entered, and the puppy followed, also through the wall, and Jason decided he needed breakfast before he tried to make sense of what just happened.

He stopped when he saw Damian break in through the window just as he entered his living room. The two brothers stared at each other.

"Tt. Where is the cat Todd?" Damian closed the window behind himself, looking around.

"It ran outside through the wall." 'Cause why not? Why should Jason be the only one baffled on this fine morning?