#bamf damian wayne

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

I need a story where Dick gets hurt or maybe Jason. Then Tim and Damian lose it they tear Gotham to shreds with their bare hands. They destroy who hurt their brothers. I need competent badass baby birds who will go to war to protect the older birds. These kids are genius deadly vigilantes I want them to go apeshit to protect their family. I want to see the dragon and the heir to the demon wreck someone's shit together.

[fleur-de-violette]

Saving the middleman

AO3

Summary:

Dick had offered Barbara to hang out with him and Damian. The afternoon seemed nice until it turned into a kidnapping. Until Dick wouldn’t wake up. Until she and Damian had to cooperate to get all of them to safety.  

Note:

This is my third fic for the DC out of the shadows event, by @holyserverbatman following the prompt: Barbara being badass in her wheelchair. Warning for kidnapping, head injury, fight and Damian’s debatable training. I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

-

“Gordon!”

Barbara grumbles and tries to push her pillow on her head. Why is someone waking her up so early? Is that Damian? Why is Damian waking her up?

Why is Damian waking her up? That is not normal. Why doesn’t she remember going to sleep? What happened?

Dick had called her for an outing with Damian. They went to the movies, got ice-cream and then…

A black truck. Too many men to fight off, let alone while keeping their secret. And then…

Nothing.

Bruce is never going to let them hear the end of it.

She blinks. She’s in a cell with Damian just above her. Dick is laying down on the other side. They are all locked up together, but not tied up. Clearly these people underestimate them.

“I’m up,” she says, pushing on her arms to sit down. Without surprise, her wheelchair is gone. She hopes it’s somewhere in the building and not destroyed.

“What happened?” she asks.

Damian looks at her for a second or two before answering, “we were ambushed. I wasn’t dosed with a drug dose as strong as you two, which is why I woke up earlier. I guess they didn’t account for my… resistance to poison.”    

She nods. “Dick?” she asks. He hadn’t moved at all since the beginning of the conversation.

“He took a blow to the head,” Damian explains. “I tried waking him up, but I couldn't.”

She bites her lip nervously. They both know how bad it is. Head injuries have the potential to become really bad really fast, especially on someone who had gotten shot twice in the head. Dick had done miraculously good so far, but the thought that every time his head takes a hit could be the last had been weighing on them for a while now.

She crawls the few feet that separate them to check on him herself. Sure enough, there is blood matting his hair. He’s breathing, which is a relief, even if it’s a little fast to her liking. He doesn’t react when she tries to call him or shake him gently. Not that she was expecting him to, given Damian’s report.

“Father is going to send help,” Damian says. He’s terrified, she realizes. He’s not Robin, not even the grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul, here. He’s just Damian Wayne. Just a child whose big brother and most important person isn’t waking up. Might not wake up for a while, if ever. And this is terrifying.

“Yeah,” she says. “He will.” But this will take time. Time Dick might not have. He needs medical attention, and he needs it now.

“Hey,” she says to no one in particular. “He needs a hospital. You can keep us, but you have to let him go. He’s no use to you dead, isn’t he?”

No answer. She hadn’t seen a camera around, so there is a real possibility that they just let them without any surveillance. Like she thought: underestimating them. With Dick out of commission, they probably think a child and a disabled woman are harmless.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

“We’re going to have to get out of here,” she tells Damian. “We can’t really afford to wait for help.” And by that, she means Dick can’t afford it, but no need to worry Damian any further. Something tells her he understands anyway.

The kid looks at Dick, and then at her, eyes wide. “I can’t carry you both,” he says.

“I promise, you won’t have to.” If it comes to it, she will crawl out of here. But something tells her it won’t. These people underestimate them, but they’re not total idiots. A chair like hers can get them a fair amount of money. They probably kept it as an extra.

She looks at the cell. It’s relatively clean, as far as kidnapping goes. She doesn’t have as much experience as the Waynes in that matter but being the daughter of Gotham’s commissioner, it was always a risk. That, and both Batgirl and Oracle have saved kidnapped kids.

The lock is magnetic. They probably think it’s safer than one with a key, harder to open. They wouldn’t be wrong. It would probably be tougher to open. For anyone other than her, that is. She had seen this kind of lock, twice, while studying some buildings. She’s confident that if she manages to open the small panel on the door, she will be able to open the door.

She leaves Dick with Damian and moves toward the door. She usually has a few knives on her, an old habit from being both the daughter of the commissioner and trained by Batman, but one quick assessment tells her they’ve been taken. Figures. They don’t underestimate them enough to skip the body search.

She resorts to putting her nail in the small opening of the box. It’s glued, not screwed, which is a shame because screws might have been easier.

She curses.

“What is it?” Damian asks.

“I can’t get it open.”

The kid looks at her for a second. “Would a blade be useful?” he finally asks in a small voice.

She bites back a of course it would, trying not to sound too exasperated. Damian is scared, she remembers. And just a child. “They searched me,” she says instead. Surely, they searched Damian, too.

“I, um.” The kid does something with his jaw, and then spit something in his hand. He washes it quickly with his shirt before handing it to her.

She looks at him with wide eyes. It’s a razor blade.

Damian seems very interested in the floor. “They didn’t find this one. Grayson is against me keeping it, but I guess if it saves his life, he won’t mind.”    

She nods slowly, taking the blade. She doesn’t want to know its initial purpose. Knowing the league, she can guess easily enough. She feels nauseous at the mere idea of a kid being trained to keep a blade in his mouth. But, she has to admit, right now, this is useful.

She slips the blade between the two parts of the panel. Looking carefully, there is some kind of map on the wall, but she can’t see it well from where she is. “Once I open the door, we won’t have much time before they find out we’ve escaped. Can I trust you to go find a storage room? That’s probably where my chair is, as well as some weapon. Once I have it, we will gain mobility, not to mention being able to secure Dick on it.”

The kid nods, acknowledging her words like a soldier. Something tells her he’s used to even less details on the plan. Working with Batman will do that to someone.

Finally, the box snaps open in her hands. Good. One quick look tells her the nature of the lock: she will be able to open it.

She’s proud to say she had steady hands. Even in situations like this, she keeps her hand steady enough so that she can make fast and precise movement around the wires.

Damian’s eyes are piercing on her, watching her. He’s preparing for the next step, but this is not only that. She knows that look, she’s often the one who has it on her face. He’s learning. And she knows him: he will learn fast. Fast enough to be the next Oracle, if he’s willing.

But she gets the thought out of her head, for now. The door snaps open, and they have to think fast. With the help of the cage’s bar, she gets herself out so that she can properly see the map. Damian on her toes.

“Here,” she says, showing a room on the map. “That should be it.”  

Damian looks at her for half a second, probably more time than they can afford to lose, his eyes expressing what he doesn’t say. He trusts her. To take care of Dick while he’s aw           ay. To lead him to the right room. To get them out of here. And she’s not going to betray that trust.

Then, he nods, and he disappears in the shadows.

She grinds her teeth. A bad habit, she knows. But waiting is hard, and she doesn’t have access to cameras to look out for Damian, here. She moves back in the cell, next to where Dick is still laying. He had not moved at all during the opening of the door. Thankfully, he’s still breathing in the same way he did when she first woke up. There is not much to do here: the blood on his scalp is already dry, and she has no way to help him without a hospital. She needs to trust Damian. He’s good, well trained, and competent. He will be back.

So, she waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Time stretches indefinitely, but really, she knows it’s probably only minutes later that Damian appears, pushing her chair in. She lets out a sigh of relief when she realizes it isn’t damaged.

“I couldn’t find the rest of our stuff,” he says. So, no phones or weapons. She wasn’t really counting on it. “They must have taken them to the second floor. I didn’t see anyone either. They just left us in this basement.”

Underestimating them again. This is good. “Good thing we don’t plan on going up. See this large room? That’s a garage.” At least she hopes so. “We’re getting a car and we’re getting out of here.”

Damian nods. “I also found this,” he says, showing a large kitchen knife on his belt. “Not my first choice of weapon, but better than nothing.”

She nods as she gets herself in the chair. “Help me secure Dick on me.”

Damian looks at her with wide eyes. “I can-”

“I need you to clear the path in front of us. It’s safer this way.”

Right now, it’s probably easier for her to carry a -the word feels wrong in her head – dead weight than it is for Damian.

If she had the choice, she probably wouldn’t have moved him without a stretcher, but they really don’t have that kind of luxury. So, instead, they secure him on the chair, his head on her shoulder, and hope they’re not doing more harm than good. But worry takes time, time they don’t have. Their captors might not be on the same level they are right now, but it doesn’t mean they won’t find out they escaped sooner or later. She hopes later, preferably after they are long gone, but she knows that, in that kind of situation, hope is a dangerous thing.

They start moving toward the garage. Despite carrying Dick, she’s still able to move fast enough to keep up with Damian, even if she suspects he’s not at his maximum running speed.

Things are going well.

Things are going great.

Up until there are voices behind them.

Damian turns, but she signals him to keep running. He does. They can outrun them. They will outrun them.

Until they reach the door of the garage, and it becomes clear they won’t. 

Barbara breaks. Apparently, the men weren’t expecting that. She tosses her head backward, and she’s satisfied when she hears something crack, followed by a bunch of curses. She doesn’t dwell on it. She knows she can’t fight them all; not without risking Dick’s health. Besides, she has another job to do. The garage door isn’t going to open itself.

Damian seems on the same page, because they switch places, and she can see him getting the kitchen knife out from the corner of her eyes.

She trusts Damian to handle the fight. Instead, she focuses on the code that is locking the garage door. It seems like these guys rely a lot on technology. And this is, indeed, good technology. But, as an expert in tech, she knows one thing: relying too much on it is dangerous. Because there is always someone better than you that can turn your system against you. In that case, the better person is herself.

The door opens and she takes Damian’s shoulder to pull him with her inside the garage before it shuts again. It can’t be opened with the code anymore. She used a simple trick, but it might buy them some time. Not much, unfortunately.

She moves toward a black SUV that doesn’t resist much before it’s opened and hot-wired.

“You drive,” she tells Damian as she secures Dick in the passenger seat. She doesn’t miss the half smile that covers his face. The knife is gone, he’s got blood spots on his hands and the beginning of a bruise is forming below his left eye. She guesses he needs the win.

Just as she shuts the door after getting herself in, the garage door opens. Damian starts the car, and she stretches out of the window to push the emergency opening exit. And then, they’re on their way to freedom. The top of the car scratches on the door, Damian driving way faster than he normally should. But they’re free.

Unfortunately, freedom is hard to win, and hard to keep. Soon, there are multiple cars racing behind them.

Their captors aren’t letting them get away so easily.

“Focus on the road,” she tells Damian as she starts rummaging in the car for anything that can help. It takes her a few seconds to get her hands on a toolbox.

Good enough. She still trains regularly to throw batarangs. Screwdrivers are almost the same things. She looks inside the box. There are three cars behind them, and three screwdrivers. She can’t miss. The good thing is: she trained with Batman. Messing up had never been an option for her.

She opens the window, knowing she doesn’t have much time to aim. If they have guns, they will try to shoot her the second she gets out.

But she’s Oracle. She’s been Batgirl. And she’s fast.

She aims, launches, and feels satisfaction crawling on her spine when the first car makes an emergency stop, one of its tires exploding. Good. Minimal risk of death or injury for these guys, but they won’t be able to pursue them.

The other two cars soon follow the first one, and she finally allows herself to breathe. “Now, get us to the hospital,” she says. They are not far from Gotham, so she assumes Damian knows where he’s going. She won’t be able to truly relax until they reach Gotham’s general, and Dick is out of danger.

If she’s honest, she might not be able to relax until she’s positive the men who took them are safely locked up.

They haven’t made a few miles when they start hearing sirens. Damian curses.

“Pull over,” Barbara says. “They won’t hurt us.”

At least she hopes. Surely, her father’s influence extends here as well.

“Get out of the vehicle,” one of the policemen says.

“Listen,” Barbara tries. “We can explain everything, but you need to escort us to the hospital.”

“Yeah, right, you’ll explain why you have a kid driving and a corpse in the passenger seat on our way to the station.”  

Damian opens his mouth, and she cuts him before he can antagonize the cops. “Look,” she doesn’t exactly like pulling that lever but, “my name is Barbara Gordon. I’m the daughter of commissioner James Gordon. Surely, you’ve heard of him. You can call him to check my story, but if one of you has ever been in his office, you’ve seen my face on the framed pictures he has. The two people here,” she waves her hand toward the front seats, “are Dick Grayson-Wayne and Damian Wayne, first and last sons of the billionaire Bruce Wayne. What do you want? Do you want to escort us to the hospital, or do you want to explain to James Gordon why you arrested his daughter and to Bruce Wayne why you denied his son potential life saving treatment?”

“Is that a threat, young lady?” the man asks.

“No, that’s fact. Please. His life might be in danger. You’re in this to help people, right? Take us to the hospital.”

The policemen seem to think about it for a few minutes before coming back.

“Right,” one of them say. “I guess it’s safer not to move him, so I’m going to drive the vehicle and my colleagues will escort us with the police cars.”

Barbara sighs. “Thank you,” she says as Damian reluctantly steps out of the driver’s seat to go sit next to her. The knowledge that they might not have been that kind if she hadn’t mentioned Bruce and her father tastes bitter in her mouth.   

She wonders how Damian would take physical affection from her. He sits very still, eyes on Dick, and she thinks he looks in need of a hug. If Dick was in her place, he would half hug him and tell him everything would be alright. But she’s not Dick, and her relationship with Damian isn’t the same.

“It’s okay,” she still says in a low voice. “He will be fine.”

“Yes,” Damian replies, not taking his eyes off Dick. “I know.”  

Everything happens too fast and too slow at the same time from there. They reach the hospital and get separated. Barbara gives her father’s number and Bruce’s number several times before giving her statement. Again, several times. A doctor examines her, but she’s fine, beside a few bruises and traces of the drug that have yet to leave her bloodstream. She asks about Dick, but they can’t tell her anything. If only she had a moment alone, she could hack into the hospital computer or get access to the camera, but she seems to be constantly swarmed by people.

She finally gets to call her dad, who tells her Bruce is already on his way to the hospital and asks if she needs him, or if he should focus his efforts on finding the kidnappers. She tells him she’s fine and promises to spend the day with Bruce and Alfred to ease his worries.  

She also wants to track the kidnappers. And she knows Batman, with Oracle’s help, will have them locked up tonight, should her father fail. While she’s more comfortable in the clocktower, she can work from the cave.  

She’s just getting in a corridor when she spots Damian. Band-Aids are on his face, as well as on his arms, and he had changed clothes. He turns when she calls out.

“Grayson is still in surgery,” he says when he sees her. “Father is talking with the doctors.”

She nods. And then, out of impulse, she does what she didn’t do in the car. She takes his arm and pulls him toward her. He let himself go, getting easily in the hug in a way she hadn’t expected.  

The Damian she first met would never have let her do that. But now, he clings to her for a few seconds before letting go.

“You did good,” she says. “You were very brave.”

Damian nods. “You were impressive too,” he replies, looking at the ground. “I knew you were strong, but this was… you were impressive.”

She smiles. Not unlike his father’s, Damian’s compliments are hard to earn.

She doesn’t have time to reply before she can see Bruce coming toward them.

“Barbara,” he greets her. “Are you alright?”

She nods, and he sighs, with the face of a very very tired man he sometimes has. “Damian told me what happened. Thank you.”

She stops for a second. Did he just thank her? She nods slowly. “Anytime,” she says before thinking twice about it.

“Well,” she adds after reflection. “Hoping there won’t be a next time.”

Bruce gives her a sad, half smile. Maybe one day, when Dick will be better and they would go out for ice cream again, they would be able to laugh about it.

For now, they are alive, and they are safe. She keptthem safe.  

And maybe there will be a next time, after all. But for now, they are safe.  

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

[bruciemilf]

Bruce who has no idea how terrifying he actually is.

Tim one day decides that his boredom overrides his siblings' need for peace and quiet. So, like the little agent of chaos he is, he brings up the dreaded question.

"In your unbiased opinion, who's the strongest in the family?"

Immediately all of them go, "Cass." She's smiling shyly about it, but there's a silver of assured confidence in there.n

Tim sighs. Fine. Too easy. " Okay, maybe that narrows it down. Who's most dangerous? I vote Dick."

Dick doesn't even need to think about it. "Aw, thanks, Timmy! I think I'm gonna go with Ja--" Damian's holding a dangerously sharp pencil to his windpipe. "Dami. Of course it's Damian."

Jason scoffs, "Clearly, it's me. That's like, my whole thing remember? I'm the violent robin--"

"Todd, we all know you gave stickers and cartoon bandages to every Rogue you had to arrest. You had gumball smoke bombs." Jason's 100% turning red and Tim is so gonna tease later.

"Besides, both you and Grayson are wrong."

Damian? Giving someone else credit? That, they have to hear. "Who is it, then?"

"It's Baba, obviously."

Jason breaks in a fit of laughter, alongside them. "Oh come on! Bruce? Bruce, who bakes awful vegan cupcakes for the PTA? He literally starts crying everytime we watch Toy Story 3."

"Because the unethical treatment within prison complexes and unfair labor laws forced upon inamtes parallels gets to him! Nevertheless. Baba could defeat mother. What makes you think he'd have a hard time with you?"

Dick snorts, " I think you're being a bit biased,--"

Damian throws a batarang at Bruce, slicing through the air with a quickness.

Their dad is reading reports, but not only does he evade it, sends it back with venomous speed. Right next to Damian's cheek. A purposeful missed shot.

Later, after they recovered from that whiplash, they ask Bruce the same question, and he of course goes with the most logical answer, " Alfred. But I think any of you could defeat me easily."

That doesn't make them feel better at all.

[sleepingdead96]

Prepared for Anything Part One

Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.

Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains. 

Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?

But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.

Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing. 

Good. It was getting annoying.

“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”

Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.

Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.

The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.

The costumed people were looking at him in horror.

Danny wasn’t sure why.

The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.

Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.

How original.

The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank. 

Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”

“You won’t be mak—“

Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily. 

Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”

“How did you do that?” 

Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.

“Get free.”

“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.

The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”

“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.

“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”

Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.

“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”

Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”

“But wh—“

“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with ya’ll.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.

[ryanwinsatlife]

Demon Twins AU Idea

(Got a little carried away, but here you go! Short version: while Damian learns from their father, Danyal is investigating the Fentons. They try to do a vivisection on Dami, and Danny is NOT having it. He goes a lil berserk)

When Damian al Ghoul is sent to learn from the Bat, Danyal is sent on a long-term undercover mission.

Two scientists, Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton, had discovered a new type of Lazarus Water. Danyal was to be adopted and report back on the differences between the Pits and this “Ectoplasm.”

One day, just a year into his mission, Danyal is investigating the nonfunctional portal when a large bookshelf covered in various samples topples, forcing him to duck into the portal and, unfortunately, the “on” button.

Danyal al Ghoul, the Shield to the Heir of the Demon, dies.

When ghosts begin to come through the portal, Danyal fights them back with an ecto-scimitar and a quiet determination that the American Government discovers nothing about the paranormal invasions.

When the Fentons find out that Danny is a halfa they don’t rush in, they’ve seen Phantom fight. They bide their time, creating a ghost-specific poison of diluted blood blossoms, slipping it into his food.

Danyal realizes he’s been poisoned too late. (Damian would be disappointed)

When he comes to, he’s strapped to a metal table in flimsy paper clothes. He feels weak, like if he sat up he would pass out.

Jack and Madeline are standing above him.

“Look honeybun! It’s awake!”

“Thank you sweetie! Now,” Madeline says, “while I am impressed that you managed to pretend to be human for so long, you did make a mistake.” She smiled, turning to rip a sheet off of-

Damian.

(His twin, his brother. He looks like he has been dragged to hell and back already, bloodied and barely breathing.)

“You really shouldn’t have based your human form on a celebrity child.” She taps a finger to her chin, thinking, “The real question is who should we start with? The monster or the template?”

“I say start with the boy lovekins. I wanna know what made him easier to mimic than anyone else.”

When Madeline picks up a scalpel, Danyal glares.

When she walks towards Damien, his twin freezes.

When she moves to cut into his twin, all The Shield can see is green.

When it fades, he is clutching his Ahki to his chest in Nanda Parbat.

[nana-mizu-shiki]

It was always amusing when people forgot that.

I honestly just really liked this one and really recommend it. If anyone knows of any similar I'd love some more Janet Drakes Son Tim fics!!

[mochinek0]

Where is MY Boyfriend(FINAL)

PREVIOUS

Damian proposes.

Marinette: No

Damian: What?

Marinette: Damian, we've only been dating for five months.

Damian: You kicked the Joker's ass for me. You saved me!

Marinette: And if I hadn't saved you....would you still be proposing?

Silence.

Marinette: Exactly. Let's get to know each other better first

Damian: Fine, but I save you next time.

Marinette: How?

Damian shows off his katana collection. Marinette turns and looks at him

Marinette: Deal

She goes back to looking at the katanas. Damian ego boosted that she trusts him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BatFam find out she rejected him

Bruce: Oh thank god.

Jason & Damian: What the hell?

Dick: She's adorable!

Bruce: You just met her! At least she's smart enough to realize that!

Tim: Also, if she said yes, she likely would have been after the Wayne money.

Damian: Didn't think about that

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 months later:

Damian proposing each month

Marinette: You have to stop proposing!

Damian: But I have your parent's blessing

Mairnette: You called my parents?

Damian: I had to get their blessing.

Marinette turns red

Marinette: 1 year

Damian: Huh?

Marinette: We've been dating for eight months. Wait four more. I want this to last, please. I don't want this to end and I'm afraid it will. I love you. I love Titus and lil Alfred. I love Jerry and Batcow. I love your art and how much you understand me.

Damian sees she's tearing up. Gets up from kneeling and hugs her. Kisses her forehead.

Damian: 1 year.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

True to his word, Damian proposed on their one year anniversary.

Marinette: Yes.

Parents learn they are finally engaged. Happy for their daughter.

Former class learns Mari is never coming back and happily engaged to someone on another continent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joker's mouth is finally healed.

Breaks out of Arkham and tries to take control of an art auction.

Spots Damian Wayne. Looks around cautiously.

No Marinette in sight.

Marinette comes out of the bathroom.

'Fuck!'

Drops his weapons and laughing gas.

Joker: Nope. Nope. Nope.

Goons: Boss?

Joker: No!

Walks out to GCPD and just gets in the back seat

Officer: J-Joker?

Joker: No!

Slams door closed

Joker: Just take me back

Marinette looks to Damian confused

Marinette: Did I miss something?

Damian: Not a thing.

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

[ao3statistics]

Date of creation: 12.01.2024

Tim for the win again.

There were no results for Luke Fox.

I assume no guarantee or liability for the completeness, correctness and accuracy of this chart despite my best efforts.

Includes fanfictions in all languages available on Ao3, NOT English only.

More charts will follow. :)

Want to have a chart for different pairings, headcanons etc. in your favourite fandom? Send me an ask!

[eighthchair]

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne: could kill a bitch, wouldn't hurt a fly

Marinette Dupain-Cheng: couldn't kill a bitch, would if she could

[nerdpoe]

An Example of Courage, part 2 of the To Live with Honor and Bravery Series

Part 1, Ao3

Rook, previously Red Robin, is one of the most effective Bats there is. He is also blind. A look into exactly how Rook fights, given his technology and League of Assassin training.

Damian was displeased.

He refused to admit he was embarrassed.

He had been assisting Todd at Grayson’s insistence, and the bumbling fool had tipped the enemies to their position. They had been overwhelmed, and Damian had been forced to step down when a barely conscious Red Hood had been threatened.

A Red Hood who was also now awake, and judging by the tension in his shoulders, was just as humiliated.

The Comm was full of chatter as Oracle and Nightwing argued uselessly over how to make the four hour journey from a different state shorter, and kept lamenting that Batman was in space.

Damian was about to give up the pretense of having no communications when he heard the last voice he wanted to hear.

“I’ve got it,” Rook's quiet voice said, “Already scoping out the building.”

“Okay; good luck,” Orphan said, before presumably returning to her case.

There was an uncomfortable pause, and Damian could feel even Red Hood’s exasperation at Gordon and Grayson’s reluctance. How was it that he and Todd, who as a rule disliked Drake, understood he was more than capable of handling himself? 

It was ridiculous and stupid and Damian could not inform them as such, or he risked alerting his captors that help was on the way.

He was, however, ready to admit that he was embarrassed that Drake would be the one to perform the rescue.

~~~~~~

Tim ignored Oracle and Nightwing’s pleading that he call on Kon for assistance, and tuned in on the robotic voice of his Seeing Eye Program.

He cleared his mind and focused on the picture it was painting for him.

There were fourteen working cameras in the warehouse.

There were twenty-one goons.

Their boss had already fled, as no one was there currently that matched his description, and the previous footage the cameras had indicated he’d gone for one of the exits.

Sixteen goons were in sight of the cameras.

Robin and Red Hood were in the break room, separated from what Tim knew he was going to have to do. Good.

All the goons had guns; the guns were identified as AK-47s, 30 rounds per gun, rapid fire and single shot possible. High probability that all goons had at least one extra magazine, leading to at minimum 60 rounds per goon, leading to at minimum 1,260 rounds of ammunition.

Best course of action was to ensure that they could not use those guns at all, and the second best course was to make them think they could not.

There were crates full of unknown items, although given the criminal element it was likely it was drugs or explosives. Ergo, highly reinforced and unlikely to break or detonate unless extreme force was used. A few stray bullets would be an acceptable risk, provided the projected outcome.

Tim could work with that.

The time taken between advising he would rescue his brothers and accumulating that information was approximately one minute and twenty seconds.

No time to waste.

Tim gave two sharp, short bird calls, followed by five clicks.

His Program immediately expanded its range of footage it was utilizing, and he listened until it mentioned what he wanted to hear.

The warehouse was on the docks, so underground electrical service wouldn’t be possible. He would have to find the connection on the roof and move from there.

He nodded as the Program finally mentioned where that point was, and moved.

Timing his movements with the patrol he’d already memorized, he leveled his grappler at the direction of the warehouse until the clicks ran together in a soft, continuous noise. He fired, swiftly jumping from the roof at the same time.

The Program immediately switched to prioritizing his mask footage and gave exact calculations for the best landing. It told him where the wall was, at what angle he had to shift himself, his estimated arrival to the other building, and where his estimated landing point would be in relation to the roof of it.

It did all of this in extreme shorthand he himself had designed, based on musical notes.

Tim, as he usually did barring extraneous circumstances, nailed the landing.

It had been one minute and forty-seven seconds.

Using his bo staff to ensure he did not trip on small hazards, Tim maneuvered to where the-yes. There it was.

The Program gave a small chirp of warning, alerting him to an environmental hazard directly in front of him, looking through the eyes of his mask for him.

He gently placed the small charge on the weatherhead, and used a super-glue based adhesive to anchor the service drop lines. That done, he carefully and quietly moved to the other side of the warehouse and hunkered down.

Then he detonated the charge.

A small pop, easily mistaken for faulty wiring.

Power was immediately cut to the warehouse, and he could feel the charge in the air as the electricity angrily searched for somewhere else to go. The adhesive forced the lines to stay in the weatherhead, but by their violent crackling and humming, that metal would absolutely heat up.

The only end result would be a fire; the Program confirmed Tim’s estimation of around twelve minutes for the metal to heat beyond the temperatures that the surroundings could handle.

The goons below him were shouting at each other, a few pot shots going off before the ones that had fired those were ordered to holster their weapons.

Two minutes and thirty-two seconds.

He caught his grapple on the edge of the skylight, and gently opened it.

And jumped down.

“Fuck, is that a grap-?”

Tim’s Bo staff caught the man in his throat and threw him against one of the many crates.

The Program happily informed him that the cameras had a night vision mode.

Well, well. 

The sensor between his shoulder blades gave two sharp bursts and he ducked, half turning and bringing his staff up where he knew that the goon’s chin would be.

He heard the garbled shout and the cracking of teeth.

The one he’d hit upon his entrance hadn’t gotten up. Two down.

The Program directed him through the warehouse and around the stacks of crates, allowing him to sneak up on five more and take them down quietly before he was spotted.

Gunfire rang out and Tim dodged in the direction of other goons, resulting in a short yelling match as they tried to figure out if the shooter had actually seen a vigilante or if she’d just spooked and fired at friendlies.

Tim interrupted the woman who had shot at him by sweeping her legs out from under her and introducing her skull to his staff.

She did not get up.

Thirteen left.

The Program advised him that the remaining goons were all in view of the cameras, and the idiots had left Robin and Red Hood alone.

They were already attempting to escape their bonds.

Tim ducked behind a crate, shot his grapple at one of the ceiling joists and dropped down in the middle of the group of three that had been arguing with the previous woman.

Their surprise granted him enough time to lay into one of them and take her out before her friends managed to fumble a flashlight onto Tim.

“Shit, it’s Rook-!”

Tim jumped up and grabbed onto the edge of another crate, hauling himself on top of it as he dodged the gunfire that had been aimed at him from the one behind him, allowing his assailant to hit his own ally, and dropped down again on the one that had fired at him. 

Using a flashy move that Lady Shiva would have absolutely disapproved of, he locked his legs around the goon’s neck and threw himself backwards. The goon dropped his gun, forced to fall, as Tim used his momentum to twist around to force the goon to land face first in the concrete.

Three down. Ten left. They had split into two groups of five.

Tim moved quickly, relying on the Program and his Bo Staff to avoid tripping hazards, and flanked the first group. His Program had informed him that his brothers had successfully escaped and were already converging on the second group.

He watched them through his program as he laid flat on one of the crates.

He inhaled.

Held it.

He exhaled.

He dropped a small, specialized EMP over the edge and shorted out their electronics, and then tossed himself over the edge and into the middle of the group.

Their flashlights and cell phones were just as dead as his Program.

They were just as blind as he was, at that moment. 

From there, it was his skill and hearing that dictated the fight.

He heard them begin to move, and swept out his Bo staff in a wide arc, knocking three of them off balance. He heard them hit the ground.

He turned towards the two behind him he could hear starting to move forward and dove at them, relying on grappling to take them both down.

He focused on the two, bouncing between them as he kept an ear out on the three picking themselves up from the ground.

Just as they managed to stand, he broke one of his current opponent’s legs and slammed the other’s head into the wall.

Turning his attention on the three, he danced around them and used them as shields against the others.

He redirected a punch to where he’d heard another goon, hooked his foot in one of their knees and shoved at their sternum, turned and taken a punch to the face so he could grab their wrist and throw them over his shoulder.

He was so caught up, he didn’t hear the one he had counted out drag himself up. He didn’t realize until, as he vaulted over one of the last fighters, there was a deafening bang and a flair of pain in his leg.

Fuck.

He finished the vault and grabbed the man he’d been about to take out, using the surprise to force him along as he charged where the shooter was.

“Wait, Dave, don’t shoot-!”

“What the fuck-?”

Tim threw the goon at his friend. Then he swept their legs from under them with his handy-dandy Bo staff, whipped around to land a semi-accidental throat shot at the goon he heard sneaking up behind him (he’d been aiming for where their face should have been, but apparently the man had been a bit tall), and dropped said staff to grab both goons by their hair and slam their heads into the ground until they stopped moving.

He heard the goon he’d gotten his throat shot in on coughing and stepping closer.

Tim waited, pretending like he didn’t notice, and turned around when he was close enough.

He gripped the man’s shoulder and drove a knee into his gut.

“Rook, cease this! That is Red Hood!”

Tim froze, and the person he’d just tried to take out gently patted his shoulder. Tim frowned and reached out, tracing the familiar helmet.

“Whoops. I dropped an EMP, so-”

“Yeah dumbass, we know,” Red Hood wheezed, voice muffled by the helmet, “Our electronics went out too.”

They’d been in range? Shit. He’d miscalculated.

“...Ah. I would imagine that is massively inconvenient to you right now.”

“To us all, Rook. Tt. We lost communication with Oracle.”

Fuck.

Dick was going to be a nightmare to deal with.

~~~~~~

Jason handed his useless helmet to Damian and piggy-backed Tim.

They knew he could walk fine on his own, bleeding leg or not, but a huge part of Tim’s efficiency in battle was his opponents not knowing he was blind.

With his weird nerd-program off, he’d have to use the Bo staff to make sure he didn’t trip or run into a crate. That shit would give him away instantly. So; piggy-back until safehouse.

Tim was grumbling in his ear, but Jason ignored it.

He understood how infuriating it was to have to take help he didn’t need.

After he’d been dipped in the Pits, Talia hadn’t been convinced he’d been completely healed from the brain damage at first. Insisted on servants cutting his food into smaller pieces, reaching out and handing him shit he’d just been about to grab, talking at him slowly and clearly while holding his hand in an iron grip.

It’d been as flattering as it had been annoying. He vaguely remembered getting the same feeling from when he’d still had his brain injury, but unable to vocalize it.

She’d stopped after a few days, but still.

Jason got it.

So he’d let Tim complain, get it out of his system while they got somewhere to change into civvies.

Damian was also complaining, but his was about how unbecoming it was for his rival to be handled like he was delicate.

Jason…didn’t really get that one.

But whatever.

Some kids played dinosaurs with their favorite siblings, Damian tried to fight his to the death. All children were different, or some shit.

They had just stepped out the door when Tim patted his shoulder.

“Also the building is gonna catch on fire in like, four or five minutes. Loose electrical wires heating up metal on the roof.”

Jason dropped Tim on his ass and turned around to drag the criminals out.

“Tell me shit like that sooner!”

~~~~~~

“Yes, Dick, I’m sure I’m fine. Don’t abandon your mission.”

“Are you sure? I can-”

“I’m sure.”

“...Okay. Let me know if a situation comes up.”

“I will,” Tim agreed, signing off from his comm and leaning back against Jason’s mirror.

He twitched from a particularly hard pull of the stitches, and waved off a muttered half-hearted apology.

“...I suppose I should thank you,” Damian said, sounding gruff.

“I suppose you should,” Tim agreed mildly, lifting his leg so that Jason could place the bandage on it properly.

They sat in silence as Damian almost audibly ground his teeth.

“Thanks, Timmers,” Jason filled in, slapping his knee as he stood up and shoved a pair of sweats in Tim’s hands, “Couldn’t have left with as little bloodshed as we did without your help.”

Tim snorted.

“I’ll take Jason’s, Damian, no need to-”

“Thank you,” Damian ground out, “For your assistance. It was invaluable.”

Tim blinked in surprise, facing Damian’s direction.

Holy shit, that was a real show of gratitude.

“Uh…you’re welcome.”

“Do not push your luck, Drake.”

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Where the Bats Come to Hide

Part 2

So to kinda build on to my Titus post I bet Damian does crawl into his siblings/fathers beds. Depending on what exactly the nightmare was, or what scares him decides who he goes too.

If it's Ra specifically Tim ends up with a baby bat tucked under the same pillow where his bow staff is. He knows that if it come down to it Tim can defeat Ra outwit him and see what his plans are before anyone else. Timothy stays up while Damian is in knowing his brother wants an active guard. His staff next to his computer with his chair facing the doorway. He knows Timothy will protect him from grandfather by anymeans necessary. Even at the expense of assassin lives. His grandfather can come but his Brother is ready and waiting.

Red hood finds a Robin sleeping under his pillow when Damian can't feel safe where he sees things of the corner of his eye. Where he can feel the cuts of blades or see the green of the pit. He goes to the brother who is always armed who's willing to pull the trigger. Damian goes when the only safety he can find is in the art of killing.

Nightwing finds his Robin tucked under his blanket curled around Zika when the world is scary when he's sad. The comfort of his Batman the warmth of the Brother who is ready with kindness as well as electricity luring him back to sleep when the memories of what he has done and gone through are too much.

His Father the great Batman can find his littlest tucked away in his room with the lamp still on when the dark is too scary. Who better to guard him in the shadows then the dark knight himself. The comforter feeling the same as the kevlar cape his father wears at night.

[fic-ive-read]

Link To The Fic

[wildrosesayshigh3]

Is it weird how I want Batman to take a life. And not accidentally either I want him to take a life on purpose it can either be fueled by raw emotion or because he had quite literally no other choice. I want him to take a life and deal with the aftermath.

B could lean on agent a, Gordon, and Selina in the aftermath since he won’t lean on his kids and students. Relearn what he already knew the world is not black or white and that also involves killing.

He could slow down on patrol in the aftermath giving more room for his children to flourish. Spend actual father son time with Damian merging back into his life as a parent. Throwing himself into Wayne Enterprise as a way to cope when he’s not with his kids .

Meanwhile everyone else who isn’t James Gordon, Alfred, or Selina is freaking out. They don’t know why he’s pulling away, why he’s slowing down, they don’t know anything and Bruce can’t won’t tell them. Babs doesn’t know what’s going on either. Maybe Kate has an inkling but that’s it.

Bruce is contemplating everything. Suddenly life has been flipped on its head and now he has to go to therapy because Alfred is putting his foot down. He isn’t budging because taking a life is different for everyone and he needs to talk to a professional.

I want Bruce/Batman to take a life and I want him to think about what this means because the person he was before and after are different. I want this to force him to look at his own actions and fucking apologize.

[bruciemilf]

Okay, but am I the only one who wants a Bruce Isn't Batman AU, where he's the only one who's not a vigilantes or even involved in the crime fighting world (at first) and, partially, doesn't know his kids ARE vigilantes?

Or maybe he does and just doesn't mention it because they would have told him if he needed to know. Or if they trusted him with that information.

Alfred thinks that's batshit ridiculous (just in more proper terms) You literally raised them???

But Bruce's mind is made up. He just quietly pays for everything under the cover that he's a " superfan" of Gotham's elite team of dark knights.

Even if he feels super lonely now that they've all moved out, except for Damian, who's just a toddler (i just think baby damian fics are SO cute) Can't leave him. Not physically.

" Your brothers and sisters are so mean. At least YOU need me" sighing, unaware Dick put mics everywhere and is like, oh no, dad :(( gotta protect you 3x harder now (because you just know they'd be so overprotective over their civilian dad)

BUT I ALSO WANT HIM TO BE A BAMF! A DILF BAMF!

Because as long as Talia's little treasure will be staying with him, her precious Gothamite needs to learn how to take and throw a punch

Mostly because I want Bruce to kick ass at a Wayne Charity Gala where he was supposed to be robbed and kidnapped, but the robbers targeted a little girl with shiny pearls, so he kindly punches them and chokes them with his thighs

By the time the batkids get there, ready to bring hell on these people, Bruce already stabbed one with a fork, disarmed, and tied the rest up.

also because I want a proud, shocked Jason to yell "YOU'RE DOING AMAZING, PAPI!" And having to explain to the press why he yelled that to the CEO of WE

[kitsune024]

Danny Phantom fics

DP X DC Fic Recs Part 2 - will add later

lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood by @halfagone I Chapters: 91/150 I Cassandra Cain/Danny Fenton, Lex adopts Danny, Lex Redemption, OP Danny If You Give a Bat a Burger by Cielle_Noire I Chapters: 11/22 I Danny works at batburger, Danny & Jason, Batfamily Dynamics, case fic, tired Danny, canon divergence Ghost in the Morgue by WheatAndWheatBiProduct I Chapters: 4/? I medical examiner Danny Fenton Off With [the Demon's] Head by @halfagone I Chapters 15 / ? I Danny & Danielle, canon divergence, long lost/secret relative, Danny & Ra's al Ghul, protective Danny Wayne’s Haunted Mansion by @tathartiel I Chapters: 23/? I Kid Danny Fenton, Danny gets adopted and it's wholesome, Danny haunts the manor, hurt/comfort Phantom Children: Redux by @avaritia-apotheosis I Chapters 11/? I The Ultimate Enemy, Canon Divergence, Danny Fenton is an al Ghul, Danny is a Wayne, Big Brother Danny The Red Hood's Big Bad Guard Demon by @the-stove-is-on-fire I Chapters 1/? I Danny/Jason, Ice Sculptor Danny, Danny freaks Jason out here lol, High and unhinged Danny, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin bloodlines by @halfagone I Chapters 6/? I Danny is Diana & Bruce's son, Time Travel Shenanigans, Identity Shenanigans, past diana/bruce, past danny/valerie, witch Sam, misunderstandings, batfamily

Completed Fics

Dig Three Graves in Apartment 31c by @faeriekit I Chapter's 6/6 I Danny has the role of Willis Todd, halfa Jason what was lost, found again by @halfagone I Chapter's 5/5 I Danny finds Jason first, Empath Danny, Canon Divergence, Danny is the Wayne's Mary Poppins- but he gets to stay, Creepy Danny How Light Carries On (Endlessly, Even After Death) by BumblingBeesAndWillowTrees I Chapters 3/3 I Eldritch Danny, Danny Adopts Jason Todd, Haunted House

Oneshots

Eldritch Toddler by @halfagone I Chapters 1/1 I Age Regression/De-Aging, Creepy Danny, Eldritch Danny, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Batfamily Hatred At First Sight by Sagoberattare I Chapters 1/1 I Funny fic, Feral Danny, Danny sees the Joker and his hatred for clowns is cranked to a 100 Two For One Special by @halfagone I Chapters 1/1 I Humor, Kidnapping, Mistaken Identity, Clark & Danny oh lazarus, how did your debts get paid by @hollowmashiro I Chapters 1/1 I Danny/Jason, Pre-Slash, Codependency, Soul Bond, Mind the Tags

Ghost King Danny

Prodigal of Lazarus by @sherashalala I Chapters 9/10 I Danny Fenton is Damian Wayne's older brother, Danny & Damian No Grave can Hold my Body Down by ghostly_frogly I Chapters: 6/? I ghost king Danny but more like prince, Cryptid Danny Vertical Limit by hppjmxrgosg I Chapters: 27/? I Bamf Danny, eldritch Danny, creepy danny- only a bit, POTENTIAL danny/tim. Arkham Phantom: The Cryptic Security Guard by @blobghostdoart I Chapters: 8/? I Security Guard Danny, Adult Danny, Eldritch Danny-only sometimes, crack fic, crack treated seriously, OP Danny Graveyard Shift by Mangopaw I Chapters: 7/? I Creepy Danny, Danny haunts Arkham-kind of, Older Danny Bus to Nowhere by @precarious-hermit I Chapters: 26/? I Homelessness, tired Danny, PTSD, no adoption The Boy King and the Dark Knights by @imjustkindaherelove | Chapters: 29/? | Age Regression/De-Aging, ghost king-more like prince, good parent Jason, Danny & Jason, funny misunderstandings, Identity reveal Lay Low and Graduate by @jaytriesstuff | Chapters: 24/? | Danny x Tim, Danny is so done

Completed Fics

To Let A Man Die by @omnicrafts I Chapter's 2/2 I Joker is Dead, Miscommunication, doesn't say in tags but it hints he's a King Your City Loves You (And Your Home Was Always Here) by bongo_balderdash | Chapters 2/2 | Clark centric, Sentient Metropolis, Clark & Danny

Oneshots

Ghostly Delivery by WeirdNCrazy | Chapters: 1/1 | More like Ghost Prince, Pizza Deliverer Danny, Bamf Danny, Danny likes messing with Superheroes, funny fic There Will Be Peace by @lapetitechatonne I Chapters: 1/1 I Horror, doesn't say in tags but mentions he's a King