#none of them remember Damian's name

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #108 Part 1

He remembered going to bed in his own bed last night. His own bed in his own room. This wasn’t his room, his bed, or even his pajamas. The body he was in didn’t feel quite right either, almost like it somehow knew he wasn’t supposed to be in it. Part of him wondered if he was dreaming but he was way too self aware for this to be a dream. 

This room didn’t look like any of his brother's rooms either. It had a bunch of space themed trinkets, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, and NASA posters on the walls. None of his brothers were into space as far as he knew so this had to be a strangers room. He wondered for a moment if he was kidnapped or something, but that didn’t sound quite right either. He was in a stranger's body so he must be in this person’s room. He had to figure out exactly what was going on. 

Just as he was considering his options the phone by the table side started ringing. Damian didn’t really know where the tune came from but it sounded catchy. He looked at the caller ID and while the phone didn’t recognize the number Damian did. It was his own, hopefully he’d be able to get some answers. 

“Hello?” He answered.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all of this. My parents are inventors and one of their inventions backfired big time. I’m Danny” The voice on the other line was his own, a little jarring sure but it to be expected, if he was in someone’s body there was a good chance they were in his body. “My name’s Damian, Inventions? This is quite the backfire. I hope you have a plan to switch us back.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve got a couple friends looking into it, they’ll be on their way in a bit to help with all of this.” 

Damian was starting to get irritated a little at how this was going. Bringing outside ‘help’ into the situation just seemed more like a distraction from whatever ‘Danny’ had planned for Gotham.

“Right, Damian, so right now you're in my body and I’m in your’s… so, my parents' invention was only supposed to strengthen the soulmate pull, but because of my weird biology. We switched bodies instead.” Damian didn’t have word’s, the whole story sounded ludicrous. But at the same time, Damian couldn’t help but believe it was true.

The weird things about the body he was in, helped convince him and then, suddenly a thought occurred to him. Hesitantly he lifted his other hand up to his neck to check his pulse.

It was unusually slow, “Why’s your pulse so slow?” he couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to admit it but he was starting to freak out a little. 

“Like I said, I’ve got weird biology. I’ll explain, but it isn’t a pretty story. I don’t really want to explain all of this but since you're in my body, you need to know so you can keep my parents from finding out. Deal?”

Having weird biology still didn’t quite explain things but hopefully a few things didn’t quite make sense, “You said your parent’s were researching soulmates? Why.”

“Alright, I’ll give you this one but seriously you’ve got to promise to keep my parent’s from finding out about things. They were a little upset that I haven’t found mine yet, my sister found hers so they were excited for me to find mine. Long story short, bad things tend to happen when my parents get excited.”

So from the sound of things Danny thought they were soulmates. That might have been true but there wasn’t a good way for them to prove anything at the moment. For now it would probably be better to go along with Danny’s plan. He didn’t like it but he could probably get a lot of information out of Danny’s friends if he played along. “Alright I agree to not intentionally reveal anything to your parents.”

“Work’s for me. What do you know about ghosts?”

[sy-on-boy]

Damian's not nervous about who will win the right to dance with him. He doesn't care. Obviously.

Except Anya Forger is now lagging behind in the trivia quiz. She rattled off her first few answers with ease (genuinely surprising, how would she know about the milk and his dog? He can't imagine Ewen or Emile would tell her), but now she's struggling and giving out ridiculous answers. Who on earth is Benjerpoop Peeface GooFallo? Is Anya really that stupid? And why is he getting anxious about Anya not winning??

Someone has four points. One more point and this random girl will be dancing with Damian. Damian gulps nervously. Anya only has three points. The next question will determine his fate, and he doesn't trust Anya will know the answers to these highly specific questions—

Wait.

Highly specific question.

Damian can ask a question that only Anya knows the answer of.

Damian is so frazzled that he barely questions why Anya is the only one he wants to dance with. Or the integrity of him helping Anya win. All he wants is to the stop the imminent danger of someone snatching Anya's (rightful?) spot.

Damian raises his hand. "Ewen, can I ask a question to the ladies?"

Ewen looks a bit surprised by how the reluctant Damian is suddenly involving himself. "Sure thing, bossman! It's your dance partner after all. Come up!"

And now Damian's faced with the intense scrutiny of the five girls. Anya's stare seems particularly piercing, but she always has that effect on people. It's almost like she can read minds.

Anya suddenly jolts and looks away like she's nervous. Huh. Right, she's probably nervous because that other girl is one point away. Damian has to think of a highly specific question that the other girl will never know the answer to, and a question that only Anya can answer. It shouldn't be that hard considering they're in the same class and they did a lot of stuff together... Damian blushes at the thought of their extensive history.

But wait! Focus! This isn't time to blush. Except he's not blushing. Totally not.

Damian clears his throat. Everyone is looking at him. They're at question 13— an unlucky number, and coincidentally the number pinned on Anya's dress, so maybe it's a lucky number after all?

"Question 13: name one food in my ration can during the bus hijacking!"

There's a ripple of surprise when Damian mentions the bus hijacking. The other four girls look nervous. That's right, Damian knows Becky and Anya have suitors who admire their bravery during the hijacking, but no one seems to have mentioned that to Damian so far... and that scratches an uncomfortable scar in his heart. Hey, Damian was also involved in saving the class. Why didn't anyone admire his bravery, then?

See, this is a strategic question. None of the other girls seem to care about the hijacking, but Anya was right next to him on the bus. Her best friend's company provided the rations. Moreover, this is about food, and Damian knows how Anya invested is when it concerns food. She'll know the answer. He knows she knows.

In addition, Damian thinks he made the question quite open ended. She only has to name one food. Damian tries to recall them in his head: beef jerky, mints, digestives, hmm, what else...

"Salted nuts," Anya says.

A hush falls over the crowd. Everyone's looking at her, but she's looking at him. Damian's heart does an odd little thump.

"... I remember that because Sy-on boy gave the nuts to me."

Damian wasn't even thinking about that connection. Honestly, he had been so stressed that he could barely remember giving Anya her favourite nuts. Well, more power to Anya.

"That is correct," he says, and he can hear Becky cheer from the sidelines. Suddenly flustered and overwhelmed by how Anya remembers that little detail, Damian steps away and lets Ewen continue with the quiz.

Anya is up to four points, and she's tied with the other girl. That thought makes Damian nauseous. Anya only needs one more point, and they absolutely cannot let the other girl win—

Ewen begins what could be the last question. "Question 14: Which person does Damian love best?"

Damian instantly whips his head towards Ewen, his face beet red. "HUH?!" he screeches. He was already feeling fluttery and jittery from earlier, and now Ewen has to do this? Does his best friend want him to die, huh?!

At least it seems like everyone else is equally flustered. They yell out wrong answers, and Damian feels a rush of relief upon seeing the other girl with four points get it wrong. But wait, she isn't the only one with four points—

Anya presses her button. Her eyes are wide, as clear and as beautiful as glass, shooting a devastating arrow into Damian's resolve.

And before she says a word, Damian knows she knows. From her expression, he can tell she has the correct answer. Because of course she knows him the best out of these girls. Anya Forger, the commoner who stole him away.

He knows exactly what she'll say, and he's almost terrified by how she pinpointed that, but at the same time endlessly relieved that she knows such an important part of him. They're just kids who want their fathers to love them, aren't they? She understands him. She sees through him.

... Ah, why does it feel like Anya can see through all of him except for his heart?

Anya opens her mouth.

"Sy-on boy loves..."

"You," Damian thinks, his inner voice suddenly astronomically soft. "You win."

[hypewinter]

He laid there on the ground, letting the cold sink into his bones as he bled out. Deep down, Danny had known for a long time this was coming. He was the Shadow, the Spare. The Inferior. He'd always been the shame of his family. After all, what good was an assassin that didn't kill?

That's why he knew it'd only be a matter of time before Grandfather got rid of him. He just never expected it to be like this. Struck down by his own brother. In hindsight, it made sense. It was a way for Damian to be completely initiated before his first mission and to cut off the rotted rope of the Al Ghul line.

It made sense, Danny repeated to himself, but it didn't stop the hurt. The pain that cut deeper than the sword to his gut. Damian hadn't even hesitated. He'd picked up his weapon and charged as soon as Grandfather had told them to begin the duel. Sure, he'd known Damian was never too fond of him. And maybe sometimes he'd thrown knives at Danny whenever he called him "Dami". But he always thought there was at least some form of affection between them. After all, they were twins. Yet Damian had ran him through as easily as breathing. He hadn't even spared a glance back as he left with Grandfather and Mother. None of them had.

Danny couldn't help but weakly chuckle. To think this was how his second death would go. Being stabbed by his own brother.

As his consciousness began to fail him, Danny distantly heard was sounded like a plane. Maybe a jet. He heard once that people can hallucinate before they died. Funny, he always figured he'd hear a train or something. Maybe a family member calling his name sweetly. Instead Danny heard heavy footsteps charging towards him. Gloved hands picked him up and held him close to a chest as an unknown voice whispered, "I've got you."

Ah, he realized what was happening. This was his mind's desperate attempt to give him some comfort in his final moments. It was nice, feeling cared for like this. He couldn't remember the last time he had been. Danny quietly thanked his mind for the blissful illusion, before his consciousness fully faded away.

(Bruce finds out he has a son and goes to rescue him. He gets there just in time to stop Danny from bleeding out and leaves, not knowing he's leaving his other son behind.)

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Florists!Fem!Reader

Word count: 570

Warning: Damian and reader are in their twenties, mentions of flowers and their opposite meanings(hatred,Stupidly, etc) this post was on Pinterest that was taken from tumblr but lost it and now I can’t find OG creator. If you know the OG creator of if this looks familiar please let me know so I can tag them. Mentions of the word skank.

A/n: i never realize how horrible 2000s magazines were until I read some my mom kept😭 Also this is all Bs. I’m sure all of these are not right bc I looked them up.

the flower shop was quiet today, it was nice but boring. When the shop was running slow time I’m the place slows down too. And you hated it. You were stuck making sure the flowers were perfect even if they were and you were just trying to make your shift go faster. But none of that seemed to work.

You somehow find yourself reading old magazines from the two-thousands you found in the back of the shop. Your elbows are rested up against the top of the displaced case, flipping through the reach page as you read every box and bubble carefully.

“What makes a girl a skank? Huh?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you flip the page “Two thousands magazines are something else”

(and trust me they are).

The sound of the bell ringing makes you perk up, indicating someone entered the store. You close the magazine before you walk around the display case to face the customer who entered. You stand there surprised, eyes coming in context with green ones that you recognize from pictures and the news—also ones you see everyday when you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning.

Damian Wayne stands in front of you and he doesn’t look happy. You smiled at him, welcoming him in. You bring him in a small short hug before pulling apart. Your lips lock for a short second before pulling away again.

“Hey. It’s a surprise seeing you here today. Do you need something?”

He gives you a nod “Do you have anything—flowers, that are symbolic of hatred? Maybe stupidity?” You were taken aback by the question.

Not that many people come in asking for flowers with bad meaning towards them—normally they come in asking for flowers that mean love.

You cleared your throat. “I believe I do, follow me”

You take him further down the shop. In the back laid different kinds of flowers, separated by name and by color.

“There’s a couple I know by heart that have both good and bad meanings to them” You start off eyeing every flower carefully as you try and remember the bad. You point up at the orange butterfly weeds, and Damian follows your finger “Those are very beautiful ones but no one gets them because they literally mean ‘be warned’. Which is shameful because they always die out here”

“Is that why you have so many back at home?” Damian asked softly, placing a firm hand behind your back.

You hum “or orange lilies maybe? They mean hatred and other rough emotions. There are also carnations, which mean disappointment. You can also get black roses. Those work too. What do you think?” You look up at your lover waiting for a response as he looks over the flowers.

He pulls out his wallet “How about all that you just named?” You give him a grin. Collecting the flowers and putting them together to make a beautiful bouquet.

You ring him up. “Are these for your wife Mr.Wayne?” You tease playfully.

“Nonsense, my wife deserves better flowers that do not mean hatred” he scuffs as he plays along.

“She’s a lucky girl”

“Yes, she is” he smiles down at you lovingly. He hands you a fifty dollar bill for a bouquet that cost thirty-five and seventeen in change. He refuses the extra amount left over.

“Keep it. Use it to bye more butterfly weeds” you sigh.

When Damian made up his mind he’s too stubborn to change it.

“Who are they for anyway?” You asked. Tilting you head as you put the rest of the money away.

“Tim was being idiotic during patrol and landed himself in the hospital”

“Oh”

[trappednyourheart]

The wrong DNA test

( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).

A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.

Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,

It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.

Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.

Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,

they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.

Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.

Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.

Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-

Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-

So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.

His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,

one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.

Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.

Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,

he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.

But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,

but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.

He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.

And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.

He. will. get. his. baby. back.

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[mysterycitrus]

Hey!! Love your art and your meta posts. I was wondering about your thoughts on something because I don't think I've ever really read about much of it in canon (might be missing something though), but do the batkids have their own Brucie Wayne-esque personas? I figure they'd be expected to act a certain way, like they've been taking in by a party loving play boy, they're gonna be a at least somewhat spoilt social butterflies right? I just can't stop thinking about the kids hitting like teenhood and having to adopt and put on that kind of act because it would be a little suspicious if nothing about Brucie rubbed off on them. Maybe they steal Bruce's cars or crash a gala, something staged just for the tabloids like that. Idk, I just find the idea of (most of) the kids not being raised anything like that and having to act up in the name of keeping their identities safe really interesting because I don't think they'd find it fun, I think it would actually gross them out to throw around money and act like brats.

lovely anon this is SUCH a fun question and i shall answer it in parts. the first is this — what is the purpose of the bruce wayne persona?

bruce created a specific public image of himself for several reasons — to deflect any suspicion that he’s batman, to justify his frequent disappearances from the public eye, and to be consistently underestimated by people he was in opposition with (gothams corrupt elite, the gcpd, etc). the popular interpretation of this is that he’s like a kardashian, but to be honest id say he’s a lot more like a donatella versace— relatively reclusive but who occasionally pops up doing the weirdest shit ever. he posts on dick’s insta like bruce WAYNE ❤️

wrt his kids, no, i don’t think many of them have that sort of glamorised persona. part of it is that the “gala” trope in fandom just…… doesn’t really exist in the comics? like bruce will take vicki vale to an event, or go to a luthercorp thing to gather intel, but the idea of everyone hitting up an event at the gotham four seasons is not a common story beat. and even then, again, the performance has a purpose outside of just being a distraction.

in particular, u have to consider how his kids are different from bruce. jason and dick were both lower class, if not actively below the poverty line and acting spoiled won’t win them any favours. cass straight up isn’t interested in that kind of performance. damian is honest to a fault. duke has his own family that he’s proud of. when u consider that damian and cass and duke and dick also aren’t white, u have to think about how acting like a glitzy idiot would help them in the same way it would bruce. short answer — it very much wouldnt. many people will think less of them regardless. it would be dehumanising, and because none of them have that same degree of disconnection from the standard person that bruce has, how would them being seen as spoiled idiots help them?

dick has always lived with civilian neighbours, had civilian jobs, and fostered civilian relationships. him being a cop was bad, but he takes a lot of pride in being someone who’s like… dependable. a good neighbour. jason is legally dead, but he wouldn’t have wanted to be seen as the dumb poor kid either. cass would probably play with peoples expectations of her, but not like an established persona that she has to take on. duke is, again, very attached to his family and where he grew up, and is very aware of assumptions people might make about that. damian would rather kill himself than pretend to be an idiot. tim, again, is a strong maybe, but i also don’t think he’d give a shit. he really values keeping himself as tim drake intact, away from robin. he wants to keep being himself.

i just think most of them would stay out of the public eye. remember — bruce isn’t active online. there is still massive control over released information about him, especially with babs. i think they would purposely make themselves boring and unassuming.

the short answer is that none of them, truly, possess bruce’s raw commitment to the bit.

[makethatelevenrings]

Just Friends? // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? yes!

WARNINGS: none

Summary: Jason panicked and told Dick he was dating someone. Now he’s being forced to bring them to family dinner so he turns to his best friend, you, for help.

“You want me to…what?”

The couch dipped beside you and a heavy arm draped across the back. You nudged Jason with your elbow as he crowded up against you and he retaliated by swiping your book out of your hand. Since he didn’t particularly feel like dying again that day, he made sure to slide a bookmark between the pages before he shut it and tossed it onto his coffee table.

“I need you to be my date. To Sunday night dinner.” He said it so simply that you had half the mind to start concussion protocol in case he had landed helmet-first sometime during last night’s patrol. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow and he grinned.

“And this is in relation to…?”

“Dick was trying to set me up with this guy he met at a coffee shop and knowing Dick’s taste in people, I panicked and said I was already dating someone and he insisted that I bring them to meet the family. Because anyone who would date me, and I quote, is a godsend and/or in need of some serious help.”

You hummed and poked his cheek. “What if I’m both?”

“See? You’re perfect.”

You adjusted your seating on the couch so you could face him, one leg tucked under you and the other hanging off the edge of his worn couch. His large hand came down to rest on your thigh and he drew circles against your skin before squeezing gently. You slid one hand to the nape of his neck and played with his hair.

“How on earth are we going to convince your family, the greatest detectives in the world, that we’re a couple?”

You found yourself at Wayne Manor on Sunday with one very antsy vigilante. He kept asking if you remembered the story the two of you had generated and you were very close to throttling him. Two years of friendship and he still didn’t trust your ability to make shit up on the fly.

The heavy oak door swung open, revealing a short kid. He appraised you with a disinterested expression and then delicately sniffed.

“Todd, I see you have brought your lady friend for once.”

“Nice to see you too, Demon Spawn.” Jason ruffled his hair as he passed and the kid swatted his hand, a murderous glare flitting across his face.

“You must be Damian.” You held out your hand and he regarded it coolly before shaking it. “Jay told me you like animals. Remind me later and I’ll show you pictures of my cats.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded and stepped aside. “That is agreeable. Perhaps I can introduce you to Alfred as well.”

You mouthed something akin to isn’t that the butler? to Jason and he snickered as he sidled up to you and slid his hand along your waist. “Butler AND cat. Damian was inspired when he named him.”

“Hmmm, that’s cute. So, one sibling down. How many more to go?”

“Too many.” He leaned down to brush a kiss across your brow. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, bird boy.”

Dinner went off without a hitch. Dick declared his love for you the second he met you, Tim was hesitant at first and fully assumed you were actually a mercenary hired by Jason to try and kill him again, Steph gleefully regaled you with stories of Jason slipping and falling off of roofs during patrol, and Cass had laughed when Jason had tried to steal some of Alfred’s famous mashed potatoes off of your plate and you proceeded to launch a fork at him.

Bruce, as expected, just sat quietly.

“Oh, miss, don’t worry about the plates,” Alfred exclaimed when you started stacking up Jason’s dirty dishes onto yours. “I have it handled.”

“Are you sure? It’s really no big deal.”

“Quite alright, miss. It is my job after all.”

You smiled at the kindly butler. “Jason speaks very highly of you. Thank you for always being there for him.”

“Of course, miss. Master Todd has always been a great joy in my life.” You could see the unspoken sorrow that lingered there too and you briefly thought of the jagged, y-shaped scar that spanned the length of his torso. Jason slid his hand in yours and tugged you into another room.

“Movie night,” he explained. “National Treasure, of course.”

“A classic.” He maneuvered you to fall back onto the couch, leaving a space for him between you and Dick. “Ah, shit, let me go get you a blanket.”

“So, how long have you two been dating?” Dick asked when Jason disappeared.

“I’ve known him for two years but we’ve been dating for three months.” It was the agreed upon date you two had come up with last night when you laid on the couch together, a mess of tangled limbs. “He’s my best friend.”

“He better not be trying to replace me.” Dick pouted but Damian tossed a pillow at his head and let out another scoff. The youngest Robin had Alfred the cat in his lap and stroked the cat’s fur like some kind of evil villain in his lair.

“Don’t worry, Dickiebird. No one can replace you,” Jason drawled as he returned with a blanket. He draped it over your lap and then took a seat next to you. “Good?”

“Yeah, thanks Jase.” You knew you wouldn’t last through the movie. In fact, you probably fell asleep twenty minutes in. Your head fell against Jason’s shoulder and he carefully adjusted the blanket to cover your shoulders before running a hand over your hair.

“If you haven’t already,” Bruce said from behind him. “You should tell her you love her.”

Of course, Jason groused. Nothing got past Batman.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 3)

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Can you tell my ADHD brain has no sense of time? I was fully like 'oh yeah it's been a week' and it's actually been 3, I am so sorry. Thank you to everyone following this series; it is complete so I swear you will get the full story! (Also shoutout to @glorified-red for body doubling w/ me and being overall amazing; I appreciate you.)

Previous chapters linked here and here.

wc: ~1050

warnings: mentions of non-graphic injury

~~

Damian’s bicep throbbed and he switched his rolling carry-on to his other hand. He’d disinfected, stitched, and wrapped the bullet graze, but that was hours ago now and he hadn’t kept any painkillers in his backpack. Even if they weren’t in his carry-on, he wouldn’t have pulled them out on the plane. As much as he’d learned about the stranger he and Jon were sitting with, he didn’t trust you enough for that. 

Jon’s carry-on bag was loud, wheels clattering against the floor and echoing in the mostly empty airport. It was a small bag and a cheap one, bought mostly for appearances and convenience. Damian’s, on the other hand, was from a safe house 90 minutes away from the airport. It was the only reason he hadn’t been stopped at security with Batman WE technology in the hidden compartment. Jon’s suit—sans the belt in Damian’s suitcase—got through security with no problems. 

He may not trust them farther than Jon could presently throw them, but Damian could at least admit that the stranger on the plane was an unexpected boon. With Jon already on edge from the solar flare and subsequent stranding and Damian himself running on not enough sleep and an even smaller social battery, having a gruff, immoveable asshole in between them would have made the flight more torturous than it was destined to be. With these delays, even more so. A childish part of Damian wanted to call Richard back and say that they did need a pick-up, actually. Some combination of pride and exhaustion stopped him. A few steps ahead, Jon’s laugh rang out, joined quickly by a laugh made familiar by only the last few hours. 

Fine so it was pride, exhaustion, and seeing Jon happy. Sue him. 

While Jon followed your—yes he knew your name, he just didn’t know you enough to use it yet—guidance through the airport, Damian watched the signs. The literal ones and the body language ones. Nothing on the plane ride had given him reason to think the stranger meant any harm, but Damian was raised with extreme paranoia on all sides of his family. Jon was his family too, though, and with his super senses compromised, Damian’s instinct would have to do. 

“Okay so since this is a shuttle, I think it’s this door.” Damian looked up at the sign you were pointing to. Zone 8, it read, Airport Shuttles. Jon shrugged.

“Looks right.”

He took the lead this time and you followed. Damian stayed behind, eyes catching on your backpack. You don’t have clothes with you, he remembered. By the looks of it, you didn’t have much with you at all. 

There was a shuttle leaving by the time the three of you reached the platform. 

“Excuse me,” you asked a woman standing nearby. Damian vaguely recognized her from the boarding line. “Are you here for the hotel shuttles?” The woman turned around, launching into a tirade.

Damian took the distraction for a chance to talk to Jon. 

“No change right?” Jon shook his head, hands rubbing up and down his arms. 

“None. I didn’t really expect any this early. Maybe tomorrow if I’m lucky? Or the day after.” 

Damian swung his backpack off of his shoulder to pull his jacket off. 

“You’re not regulating temperature properly—” 

Jon’s hand on his arm stopped him. 

“Your arm.” Damian cursed under his breath and pulled the jacket back on. 

“How long’s it been since you changed that?” Jon asked. 

“I’ll change it at the hotel, it’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” 

In the corner of his eye, Damian watched you extricate yourself from the tirade. 

“You’re not one to talk, currently,” he said. “It’s barely chilly out and you’re shivering.” Jon’s response was curtailed by your return. 

“Oh but the Metropolis folks aren’t built for this kind of weather, don’t you know? It’s clear skies with a chance of red cape sightings over there.” Your own jacket was still on, though unzipped. 

A snort of laughter escaped Damian before he could hold it back. Damian blamed it on the fatigue. He blamed the spark of gratification he got when you delighted in his reaction on that too. Jon rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, very funny.”

Your eyes locked onto something behind Jon and Damian tracked your gaze to the shuttle. Jon took a step back as it parked right beside him. 

“Bluiett, Archanza, Helioz!” Yelled the driver. 

Jon extended his arm, ushering you inside. 

“After you.” 

“Thanks.” 

Damian clambered on after Jon. He’d taken a seat across from you. Damian sat next to him. 

The shuttle ride was, for the most part, quiet until the first stop. 

“I don’t have any pajamas,” you lamented, head dropping back against the window behind you. “Or toiletries.” 

Damian wasn’t sure if you were expecting an answer, even if he did know what to say. Jon’s eyebrows wrinkled. Damian thought his thinking face was adorable. Jon thought it was embarrassing.

“You can borrow something of mine if you want?” Jon offered. Damian held back a smile. Jon had very little clothes-wise in his carry on—just sweatpants, an extra set of jeans, a t-shirt or two, and underwear. And a Superman suit. But still, he offered. You smiled awkwardly, eyes dipping down to where your own backpack rested on your lap. 

“Um, no I’m good. But thanks.” 

Damian’s eyes tracked your face. For the first time all evening, he found what he was looking for. You didn’t quite trust them either, not yet. You were wary of them. Not afraid, not like you were when you got on the plane, but wary. Jon and he were strangers and you knew it. 

“Even hotels as bad as these should provide some sort of soap,” Damian offered. 

For the first time all night, your hopeful smile was directed at him. 

“Yeah, I forgot about that, thanks.” The relief in your voice told him you were being genuine. Damian nodded in return, giving into the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I think I’m taking sleep over a shower anyway,” Jon added. 

“Easy for you to say when there’s options,” you teased back at him. Damian might not have laughed the way Jon did, but he cracked a smile nonetheless.When the three of you parted in the hotel elevator—you on your own on the second floor and he and Jon together on the third—Damian might not have known everything there was to know about you, but his instincts whispered trust. Good enough for him.

[mewnekoice-mecha]

DP x DC

Part 2 of Idol!Danny

Quick summary: Danny is performing in Gotham, the bat boys & girls go see it. Que Simps Damian and Tim

Here’s Danny’s outfit as always

*knock**knock*

“Phantom ,your on in 5 ok”,said the manger for this event, “Please head to the stage, we’re ready”.

“Ok, I’m on my way,” came a light male voice with a soft undertone that didn’t seem human. The male in question was none other then teen idol and meta sensation PHANTOM or in his dimension Danny Fenton, a teen with glowing white hair that constantly shifts like it’s underwater, eyes that glow a bright neon green, small fangs that fill a faerie like face, his entire appearance screams supernatural. That’s not the only reason he’s so popular, but we’ll see why later.

At the moment he was about to do one of his biggest concerts to date in the city of crime itself Gotham City, Home of the Bat and His Birds. Doing one last check to make sure his outfit and makeup was perfect, Phantom left his room and headed to the main area in the arena that he will be singing in, in just a few minutes.

Taking a breath Danny shook himself and grabbed the headset that was handed to him, as the workers fitted around him doing last minute checks before he goes on. Eyes flashing brighter then ever, a smirk came across his face as he felt Lady Gotham’s Knights had decided to join his little concert, now he HAS to make this a performance worth remembering.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, YOU KNOW HIM YOU LOVE HIM, PLEASE WELCOME PHANTOM!!!!”

Time to knock ‘‘em dead Fenton

*Jason’s POV *

‘I can’t believe Cass and Steph, dragged us to a concert for some lame meta twink singer, I could be sleeping or shooting at assholes right now buutt nooo I gotta be here with demon brat, replacement and dickie as well’ I thought as we grabbed our seats. Steph and surprisingly Cass have been raving nonstop about some meta singer that popped up a year ago. Apparently he’s been taking the music scene by storm and he’s already won awards for his music despite his young age, I can’t help but Amit I’m a little curious about him as it’s almost unheard of for a meta to be so open about they’re powers like he is. As soon as I thought that, the announcement to welcome the kid who’s stage name is apparently Phantom came on, guess I’ll see what’s the fuss about ,when QUIETNESS and Darkness greeted me.

*Danny’s POV*

After my announcement came, i floated invisible and intangible to the center stage, then I grabbed on my core and PULLED all the light to me so there was only Darkness, that’s when the music started and I began to SING

🎶Better-Arc North, Rival🎶

I slowly became visible as I sung a bright spot in total darkness

“Like we’re underwater

Can’t hear nothing

You’ve been casting a spell

I’m all yours now

Yeah, you’ve been

Fillin the space upon my mind”

I floated slowly around the stage like I was looking or daydreaming about someone, a dazed/happy expression on my face

“And tell me everything

Both the good and bad

Cause whatever you tell me

I will still like everything that I see

Cause nothing feels better then us

I’m so high can’t get down

No nothing feels better than when I’m with you”

Moving closer to the edge of the stage I could see and hear the dazed, blushing faces of my fans screams and cries of I love you and Phantom filled the air, it was almost time to dazzle my little specters

“My future is buried in your eyes

I got so much to say and I won’t lie

Nothing feels better than you”

As soon as the bass started to drop Releasing my hold on my core, the entire arena became a NEBULA with me as its center, bright blues and purples filled the arena as shooting stars shot behind me

“Nothing feels better than this

No nothing feels better than this”

Looking at the faces of my fans I could spot some shocked faces in the front row, and low and behold it was Lady Gotham’s birds. Creeping closer I leaned close to one of them a male with shocking blue-gray eyes and smelling a bit like coffee I sang my next part

“Let me be your safe place

If the sky would open

I’m making sure that you stay dry

In the greatest of storms

I’ll be your light”

Leaving him slacked jawed with a pretty blush I moved on to the next bird closest to me which happened to be the one with pretty green eyes and gorgeous Arabic tan I’ve ever seen, he was scowling but had a light blush that was unnoticeable to untrained eyes, taking a clawed finger I lightly brushed against his face not quite touching but still noticeable

“And they can’t tell me nothing

That will make a difference

Since I got everything I need in you

I’m invincible I believe”

He was staring wide eyed at me like he couldn’t even believe I was talking er singing to him, moving back to the stage I started using my ecto-ice to make a light mist that cause the nebula around me to sparkle as I air danced

“Cause nothing feels better

Than us

I’m so high I can’t get down

No nothing feels better

Than when I’m with you

My future is buried in your eyes

I got so much to say and I won’t lie”

Bringing my hands in front of me I slammed them together creating a would be universe around me with a shadowy figure reaching a hand out toward me for me to take, reaching for the hand I grasped it and pulled it towards me as the shadows peeled away from the figure showing a gothic loli teen with a bat choker on and golden eyes

“Nothing feels better than you

Nothing feels better than this

Nothing feels better than this

My future is buried in your eyes

I got so much to say and I wont lie

Nothing feels better than you”

Ending the song on that note I hugged Gotham as a thanks for letting me use her as a stand in.

But as for her knight’s I had no way of knowing just how true my song would become for me and them

@skulld3mort-1fan @kawaiikenna @xye-chan

as always this is an open prompt so if u like the prompt you can borrow it or make a story out of it all I ask is just a mention of where it came from

[bruciemilf]

oh that's ok but batkids reacting to bruce getting hurt in general?

It's such a bizarre feeling for all of them; They all bear marks. Not one bat is without scars; You'd be more of an anomaly if you weren't hurting than if you were.

Jason has his autopsy scars. Dick has calloused hands from all those years of jumping, or deeper memories carved deep in him from his Robin days. Damian carries traces of training where someone his age shouldn't.

They all know; No one with the Wayne name is a stranger to pain.

But Bruce; Bruce has more than all of them. They know, because mending and healing wounds is a family tradition, just as tracing them when snuggling up on a huge bed is.

But they can't conjure a moment in time when Bruce's were fresh. They're all healed and pink and more memory than guests. And it's not as often as them.

It's Tim who figures it out. Those eyes were designed for detail. " You didn't think he took all those vacations to actually relax, right?"

" Bruce's idea of relaxation would send someone in a psych word, so no. So all this time, he went away to...Heal?"

" Something like that. I don't think he'll be successful with this one, thought."

Not even Bruce can walk off a coma.

It wasn't supposed to be that explosive. Bane's twisted little bombs had 5 minutes left on them when Barb checked, and they were supposed to get the hostage to safety on time, and Tim wasn't supposed to miscalculate--

" Your self-employed guilt is no help to anyone, Drake." In Damian language, this passes as It wasn't your fault, so Tim knows him, and knows better, than to put it to heart.

Dick wants the graveyard and sunrise shift, but Jason shuts that down, set in his way. Either they all look after Bruce, or none of them do.

They take turns.

Jason sits by Bruce's bed side with his feet planted deep in the carpet. Shoulders squared, posture ready and stiff for any incoming danger, gun safety off and bullets still hot in their holder. A hell hound made man.

" You're not doing it right."

Tim shoots a dagger of annoyance with his eyes alone, because he hasn't slept in hours, because he's trying to track Bane down, because he needs to send that bastard packing straight to Arkham's smallest cell.

All while maintaining some degree of calm as he tries to change Bruce's bandages, " I'm a genius, not a nurse."

" Maybe if you actually watched Grey's Anatomy like the rest of us normal people, --"

" Just because it helped Bruce get through med school--"

" If you're a selective genius, just say that."

" I'd rather be a part time genius than a full time idiot--"

" Dick!" Jason calls, but, Tim privately thinks he's hoping Bruce would answer, " Timberly's mean to me again!"

" Am not!"

" If you guys don't stop I'll tell B!"

Because he will wake up; He has to. Before Batman, there was Bruce Wayne, and if there's one dog to bet on in Gotham City, it's him.

Cass makes sure Bruce has clean sheets. That his burns are medicated and tamed and watches very closely for any sign of discomfort. Bruce winces at the small cotton ball of alcohol and there's a collective breath of relief.

Alfred makes sure they have sleep. That Jason won't wayward his way into a battle he'll regret and take Damian with him. That Dick actually has some sleep. That Duke and Cass are updated on patrol.

They're fearful. Every breath they take are like small stones stacked up on top, waiting to drop to the core of their bellies as a week passes and there's no sign of Bruce even flinching anymore.

Of course, when he does, -- because he always does, -- it's when they bicker. Tim can't remember who started it. He said something, and then Damian tossed a snarky comment because he's mean when he's scared, and --

" Can you be nice to eachother for 10 minutes?"

They all jump on him; He hisses, every numb nerve in his muscles buzzing back to life, but he's being squeezed and embraced and hugged in the ground by his kids, so it's not the worst fate in the world.

" Did I miss something?"

" Jason crushed the Batmobile."

" TIM!"

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

Keeping It Close To The Chest (KICTTC) pt. 2

Wow, I really was inspired! It really warms my heart that so many people enjoyed it as well! Again I Frankensteined this together as parts of it came to my brain, then connected them all. I swear I shuffled things like 5 times.

Be safe, make good choices

TW/CW: Child abuse, child murder, death, child death (Danny), Shock/ptsd symptoms, Guilt/ self-blame, Child warriors/soldiers, blood, familial abuse/ neglect

~~~ IF I MISSED A TAG please let me know, I want everyone to be able to make the informed choice that is best for them! ~~~

Here is part one in case you missed it!

Part three Part four

Happy holidays my friends :3

~Ren

One two three four five six. In. Hold.

The air in the bat cave was chilly. As usual.

One two three four five. Out. Again.

Usually, moisture clung to Damian’s skin and clothes. Today it seemed harsh and dry like even the cave was voicing its displeasure and passing judgement. It added to his melancholy and nostalgia.

One two three four five six. In. Hold 

His first week in Gotham the rain had been coming down in heavy sheets, he had never seen a storm quite as wild before. He had felt small standing on the Wayne manor doorstep next to Mother, with the wind and rain whipping around them, cradling them in water. He shivered at the memory. Damian had only known the weather in Nanda Parbat, being so close to Ladakh the weather alternated between dry and hot to freezing temperatures in the winter. True downpours were rare due to where the base had been built.

One two three four five. Out. Again

The nights were long and cold. Their room only outfitted with bare essentials, had none of the comfort he had now. Damian can still recall how his little body would shiver and shake no matter how hard he tried to still it. Many winter nights under the protection of the dark, Danny would cross their room to slip under his covers. Two little bodies next to each other, the warmth soothing their bruises and sore muscles while they watched the snow drift down from the window. 

One two three four five six. In. Hold

Damian was not in shock as Tim may have suggested. No. He would never fall so far that emotional distress would prevent him from what must be done. The nervous tick to his heart was because of his worry for Danyal. Damian had only accepted the heat reflective blanket so Father would leave him be. He clutched the edges in an attempt to refocus. He cannot remember who dragged the plush chair into the batcave but he supposed being comfortable while waiting for Danyal to wake was acceptable. Damian also grudgingly could admit to himself, they were kind to place it so he maintained visual on his little brother.

One two three four five. Out. Again

Danyal’s blood had stained his costume. Green and red, Damian’s colors but now, well. He’d start by asking Alfred to take a look, see if it could be cleaned but maybe it was time to follow in his sibling’s footsteps and completely change his armor out for something that didn’t threaten to drive him to his knees. 

One two three four five six. In. Hold

He wanted to be clean, so he'd be allowed in Danyal's room, but he was stuck where he was. Some parts of his clothes were wet still, other less saturated parts were dry and itchy and uncomfortable. He idly scratched at some, and then abruptly stopped when the flakes caught under his nails. He’d have to talk with Danny about why it seemed his green blood tingled against his skin.

One two three four five. Out. Again

( He would bite his tongue though, he's not so dense to miss the fact that prying is glaringly rude, and he doesn't want to give his brother anymore reasons to run from him. Even if he wondered why Danyal's blood smells like rotting food and sweaty locker room with a touch of something he couldn't name. It was a nauseating combination instead of the iron he has grown used to.)

One two three four five six. In. Hold

Toxic green it was always that blasted bright green. Grandfather lived as long as he did due to the pits, the pits brought Jason back, now Danyal was affected, and he had no idea what to do. He was scared. He was so sacred.

One two three four five. Out. Again

"Heyy Bud, maybe it's time to change and shower?" Richard's voice comes from behind where Damian slumped. Damian allows a quick glance at his eldest brother, before he turns his gaze back to Danny's prone form on the bed.

No, he hadn't flinched at the sudden noise, he obviously knew Richard was approaching his seat. Even if his brother is eyeing him with that look like he knows what Damian is thinking. Damian bites his cheek until he splits the skin. Which he can't. He can try to understand because of his experiences with Jason's death, but. Danny was Damian's twin. His other half, they had always been together. Richard can't possibly understand the guilt he carried for not realizing Danny's plan when he realized something had changed the look in his twin's eye, or how ashamed he is for the sliver of pride he felt afterwards when Grandfather handed Damian with his personal kodachi, a blade every member had coveted. How it felt like betrayal that he had thrived in the League those five years after Danyal's death.  

He doesn't know what that's like to lose an intrinsic part of you. He had a family before being adopted by Father. The Wayne's had been allowed to stop for Jason's death. Dick had been allowed to mourn his little brother, to erect a grave to sit with. Damian only had had Danyal and then he died, and Damian was never able to speak of Danyal again until now. Hell, Grandfather was pleased to have taught Damian a lesson on rooting out weakness. He regrets not trying to bring life to those memories he cherishes.

Damian's frustrated with himself, the small movement was meant to be a reach for one of the knives that are still lining his body. Inescapable evidence he is balancing precariously on a knife's edge. Evidence Richard is no doubt started collecting the minute he had realized Damian recognized him. A fierce scowl finds its way onto Damian's face as he clenches the material of his pants between his fists. He wants to scream. If he were Jason, he'd snort at his brother's insistence in taking Bruce's place when he glitches over big emotions, when inevitably hides from his children until he's done processing.

Damian doesn't say anything though for a couple minutes, he knows Richard is caring and kind but the idea of talking about feelings with his sappiest brother has Damian suppressing a shutter. He doesn't want to talk about any of this, even if he knows his grace period to collect his thoughts is running out quickly.

"I'll stay with him while you're gone." Richard offers quietly, "Babybat, please?"

The name hasn't bothered Damian in years but now it has him seething and baring his teeth.  "Do not call me that Grayson." Damian has never been the baby of the family, that spot has always been Danny's.

No one has questioned his prickly disposition since his arrival or knows why he hates their pet names or where and he disappears on his birthday. They dismissed it with condescending smiles, ruling it as him finally acting like a child, more anger, less murder. Like throwing a tantrum over a ripped toy. How has he managed to fool a family of crime fighting detectives?... He's the superior son of course. The sentiment rings hollow, if they don't know it's because they didn't bother to ever really get know Damian past his carefully constructed front. Truly, Damian thought, a ten-year-old fooling all of the Bats and Wings is ridiculous. Damian is stubborn to a fault and decided if they think his grief is equal to an upset child, well he wasn't going to point it out for them. It took Danyal dropping from the sky for them to realize, there was more to Damian than they knew.

Grayson is watching him carefully now, but his posture remains open, relaxed, his warm smile still firmly in place. Even if Damian knows the tightness at the corners indicates his rising anxiety. Damian still wants to break those perfect teeth of his.

This isn't easy for him, why would he make it easier for them.

Instead of acting on his impulse to maim, he paces closer to the glass, allowing himself to remember their childhood, Danny had burned brightly in the darkness the League surrounded itself in -too brightly- and ultimately snuffed out. Danny was all enthusiastic questions, witty remarks and freely given smiles. He had intended to tell Father about his dead twin, had been preparing how to report the situation just right in the time it took to travel from Nanda Parbat to Gotham with Mother, surely Father would let him speak of Danyal, even once would have been enough.

The whole point of Mother sending him away to live with Father was to get him away from the League and Grandfather's influence. Away from his wretched rules that prevented him from honor Danyal as he should. Mother had tried to hide her emotions away but when Grandfather had started talking about Damian like he did Danny those last few months and -well, Damian was an excellent assassin being the son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne; two of the most resourceful people out there- he knew what her fear looked like in the forced steadiness of her hand as she lead him away, the sorrow in her brow. He knew his Grandfather would soon order him dead as well.

Mother had him pack his bag and took him to Father, one twin lighter than planned. His Father was nothing as expected. Damian had imagined someone like Mother, always calm and collected, her icy displeasure, her quiet pride. Batman was close to expectation, Bruce Wayne on the other hand was loud, emotive, emotionally compromised. Damian would've shrunk under his Father's attention that first meeting if not for his rigorous training. Anger, guilt, resentment all flew around the room. He kept the secret of his twin buried where it couldn't hurt anyone; he had seen Father's reaction to Damian, nothing good would happen if he told Bruce. The detective would surely push and pry until their secrets lay at his feet, once a mystery was presented to him Batman would stay on it until he was satisfied with the answers. The destruction would only be regretted in the aftermath.  

It was demeaning to allow his new family to think he lacked in his training but for those first few months with Danny saturating his thoughts Damian would turn to where Danyal would be at his elbow, would open his mouth to whisper in Arabic to share their secrets like they used to or he would leave his blind spots wide open, shame and grief had warred inside him for a long time. Damian had loved his little brother with everything he had and then he was gone- killed by his own hand at his Grandfather's request. The Waynes had given him this new family with assorted siblings overnight, and itmade him breathless to acknowledge that Danyal would never thrive in this warmth. 

(Danny had been a mischievous child, witty and too smart for his own good to the frustration of their teachers. Even if he fell short in martial arts and weapons training compared to his older brother, he was better at blending quietly into the shadows. The twins shared a fierce protectiveness between them of course but Danyal? Danyal was creative, had an inherent genius for tricks and traps. Danny who cried in their room after a mission but did not hesitate with those who disrespected Damian. The only evidence their teachers would find was the self-satisfied look on Danny's face, much to their anger. With no evidence to show Grandfather they were forced to be content with pushing them harder until one of them collapsed and then took glee in punishing the one who fell behind. (No matter how much Damian helped with Danyal's sword swings or his forms, his twin rarely beat him in a straight fight.) 

Danyal would crawl into his bed those nights seeking his twin's warmth in the cool desert night, and he'd fix Damian with this blazing look before shying away, moving his attention to Damian's hands he would trace every scar and callous until Damian drifted to sleep. Danyal would wake him before their trainer arrived and they'd steal a few quiet moments for themselves.

(The only time Damian woke before Danyal their hands were still between them entwined, his little hand was clutched tight-like Danyal was afraid of it being snatched away. Damian gave a little squeeze back and Danny's eyes fluttered open. When he saw Damian next to him his face stretched into Danny's true smile, soft, shy and sweet. A smile for Damian alone. He has started to forget what it looked like.)

Damian had been adrift in this new world away from the strict dogma the League required. The new rules he was expected to live by now were so different, he constantly wished Danyal was here for Damian to find some familiarity in. He was on an uncontrolled spiral those first months until he had given in to Richard's soft support. It had stung at first, to receive the affection that only Danny had given him in the past.

Richard was the one who noticed he was spending his free time sketching, dragged him out of the manor to give him his first bound sketchbook with charcoal and had beamed proudly the first time Damian allowed him to see it being used. Damian knew just how hard his brother loved their family, loved him. It was the only reason Damian quelled the urge to stab him, even if it was extremely tempting.

No, he must be intentional now. Strong in the face of what is sure to be murky doubt at Damian's claims. Tim had tried to run a paternity test with the blood from one of Danny's bandages Alfred had discarded- it came back with an error message about twenty minutes ago, but Tim was nowhere to be found. If he can bring Richard over to their side before the rest of their siblings or their father push their way into the batcave for answers, he'd manage to keep things relatively neutral while he argued his case.

Damian takes a deep breath strengthening his resolve. This is for Danyal, he will not misstep now with so much on the line.

If Damian fails to convince them, he will take Danny and run. Between the two of them no one would be able to find them unless they wished it to be so.

“Damian…” Dick says his name carefully, with as much feeling as he can, because he knows the shock of having his brother rise from the grave you buried him in. He aches that one of his siblings ever had to go through what he did. “ I think someone should be with you while we wait for him to wake up.”  

The sneer of disgust that overtakes Damian’s face at his words was expected and how familiar it was had Dick shoving aside the burst of fondness that it caused, and he cuts Damian off before he delivers what surely is a scathing reply.   

“I know you want to be by Danyal’s side, and I can see how much you love him…" Dick clears his throat when it threatens to close, he has to keep talking because this isn't just about Damian, this is about their baby brother that looked terrified under Damian's gaze in the warehouse. "You saw his injuries; I’m worried with how scared he was earlier Danyal may injure himself more if he feels overwhelmed.”

Damian’s eyes closed tightly against the agony that shot through his chest. He knew that. He didn’t need Richard’s reminder. For Danny to look at Damian with such terror, pleading with him- Damian has never hated himself more. He has no doubt this is truly Danyal, Damian knows clones don't carry scars, scars show the life you've lived, it's unique no way to replicate it. They were all there just like Damian remembered.

As heir Damian had to be cold and merciless in the League, he was used to those around him being afraid of his capabilities, of how easily he could snuff out their lives, at one point he had been proud of his Grandfather’s smile when he had heard his four-year-old grandson had taken down his trainer with ease. He had never been that way with Danyal, distant sure, he had to be under the League.

But now that he’s been away, had a chance to meet so many people he knew better. He never felt as alone as he does now, Dick besides him and Danyal resting close by. He never wanted to cause his brother such pain. Richard could be right, he was much more knowledgeable on feelings than Damian, who still stumbles on the finer intricacies of societal interactions. He.. He would do anything for his little brother and if that meant sending him far away from here, Damian would do it. Would help him escape Batman and Bruce Wayne who were both annoyingly persistent. The others.. he could convince, he had enough blackmail stored away for an important favor. It was enough knowing Danyal was alive. 

(No. He’s lying to himself. He’s so close to unraveling but will grit and bare it. It’s his responsibility, he always will look after Danyal. No matter the personal cost. He can practically feel Richard’s devastation from here; he’s sure his older brother is desperate to make this better, however he can. Damian won’t let him. He deserves Danyal’s fear, he was a murderer masquerading as a boy. A boy who in this moment aches to hold his little brother close like when they were kids. Beg his forgiveness and sob and marvel because his fear makes this real, his brother is alive. If Damian believed in miracles this would be his.)

He cannot afford to lose this head with Danny vulnerable in the next room, so he breathes a long breath through his nose again stubbornly not looking at Richard, keeps his eyes on his baby brother, watches his strange breathing rhythm raise and lower the sheets in reassurance his twin is still with him and turns his body towards Richard, a small concession.

"Danyal is my little brother, my twin." It's said slowly, Damian carefully controlled his tone, flat, to the point. Damian just had to get this report out, "When we were five Grandfather ordered that I lay claim my title as heir."

From the corner of his eye Damian can see Richard's smile tighten with tension in an effort to keep it there, now that Damian has started though he pushes past the guilt that has haunted him to finish, " I was superior in martial arts and weapons handling but I was too rigid, Danyal- he" Damian's throat is tight, like there is a rock in his throat, and he clears it quickly. "We excelled when we were together, he took to the things I had not. I knew I'd be Heir, being the eldest grandson. But-" He chokes and Richard makes an aborted motion to touch him. Thankfully he waits.

"But I knew he'd be my Shadow; We'd rule together as soon as I took my place at as the Demon Head... Until Grandfather made us duel." To the death goes unsaid but Damian could see the horrible realization breaking across Richard's face, so he turned his head to look at where the bats nest was among the stalactites. He could make out their mass if he looked hard enough. "Danyal threw himself onto my sword and I killed the person I promised to protect!" Damian pauses, and whispers into the air between them. "There was so much blood." It wavers in his mouth but doesn't break.

The truth burns as it's coming out. Damian got all the big things into the open, now he allows himself to fall into his elder brother's arms and weep. All his pain and regret soaking Richard's shoulder. His body is still sitting with Richard, but Damian is back in a time filled with sharp strikes, where punishment was to be embraced. Swords against whetstones. Legacies to be molded. Damian can hear the whoosh of leather through the air and on cold nights the scars on his back ache.

Damian shivers now in Richard's hold his breath clouding the space between them. Damian shoots straight out of Richard's arms as soon as he realizes it's not just his breath that's visible. The cave had gone from chilly to freezing in a flash. The temperature in the warehouse had dropped too, right before his twin came tumbling out of the sky. Something is wrong. In the time Damian had looked away something had begun to stir in the recovery room. The once steady if slow beating of his twin's heart now resembles an average heartbeat.

Energy pulses. Biting wind almost takes their feet off the ground. The lights burst, raining glass from the ceiling. Richard throws an arm around Damain and pulls him into one of those springy twists only he could do that brings them under some cover.

A shadow writhes in the dark of the recovery room and Damian struggles to free himself from Richard's grip. "Danyal!" He's becoming desperate. Danyal has to be alright. Damian cannot handle losing his baby brother again. Richard stays firm. "Let me go! Please he could be hurt." His voice cracks over the plead, he feels small. Small and helpless. Two things he swore that day he would never give into again.  

Running out of patience Damian swipes at him with a blade and when Richard yelps and releases his arm he rolls, pushing into a sprint once he drops. Only to stop cold a few feet from the door. Peeking up at him from the side of Danyal's bed are solid glowing green eyes.

Part Three 01/06/2024

[zahri-melitor]

Thinking again about the whole "Dick told Damian he would have adopted him" scenario and remembering how ridiculous this is:-

Firstly, Bruce would have had to be dead. Since Bruce became aware of Damian, Bruce has always been a fit parent in the eyes of the law; there's no evidence of any situations that would lead to Damian being removed from Bruce's custody, and in terms of what a social worker would care about, the worst that's going on is...Damian runs away on occasion, plus your standard set of vigilante bruises.

For Bruce not to have at least partial parental responsibility for Damian, some of the following elements would need to be in place: Damian has a birth certificate without Bruce's name on it; nobody has provided a DNA test showing that Bruce is Damian's father; someone has legal paperwork stating that Damian has two different, legal parents; Bruce has permanently relinquished custody of Damian; a parenting order has been made that says Bruce doesn't get custody or parental responsibility (whether by agreement or by court order). Aside from the fact we don't know what's on Damian's birth certificate, none of this is the case.

Damian is clearly in Bruce's custody, legally, from about Battle for the Cowl onwards, and has had visits to the household prior. This is because, as far as the public and the legal system is concerned, Tommy Elliot is currently 'Bruce Wayne' for any public appearances. Now you could have a (fun!) scenario where Damian needs a DNA test to prove his identity and since Tommy obviously would not match, the courts find Damian is not Bruce's biological child...but given Dick is literally also building his own forensic testing lab as part of Wayne Enterprises at that time, they'd obviously do it in house and use a sample Bruce had on file.

Bruce provides care, support, housing, paid supervision (Alfred), and so on for Damian whenever Damian is in his custody or in a Wayne household.

Damian also specifically chooses during B&R09 that he wants to be in Wayne custody not in Talia's (after his back surgery) and everyone involved actually works to make that happen, including Talia (and preference of the child is something that's taken into account in terms of parenting orders).

And in any circumstance where Bruce is not considered to be a fit parent for Damian (due to, for instance, being dead), then Talia is still Damian's biological mother and the person who had parental responsibility and custody of Damian up until the age of 10. You'd need to prove that Damian should not be in Talia's custody and that the circumstances were such that she couldn't even have, say, supervised visits. Now whatever the DCU position on international assassins having custody of their children is, Talia, unlike Jade Nguyen, has never been charged or convicted of killing people, to my knowledge. She doesn't have a known criminal record.

To show Talia to be someone whose rights as a parent have been removed, you'd need something of the following: Talia would need to agree to give up all parental responsibility (which she has never done, see how often Talia drops in to 'sort things out' for Damian); Talia would need to be found by a court not to be a suitable parent for her child; Talia gets imprisoned for killing people and thus couldn't have custody of her kid; Damian has paperwork that says Talia isn't her mother/we have DNA evidence showing she isn't his mother.

For Dick to have any chance of adopting Damian, they would have needed for both Bruce and Talia to be legally dead, have had their parental rights removed, or have voluntarily relinquished their parental responsibility, to permit the adoption to occur.

This isn't a small thing. Bruce might have been 'dead' during that period but he was also legally alive in the eyes of the law. Talia has a legal existence in the US under her identity as Talia Head. For Damian to get adopted, he'd need both of them to sign that Dick could adopt him, or be in the custody of the State and have the State agree for Dick to adopt him.

There are scenarios where you could get to that point, particularly if Bruce had remained dead. But in the stories we have? As much as Dick thinks it might have been a nice thing to do, he absolutely could not have done it without a protracted legal fight (or agreement of both Bruce and Talia) and he'd probably lose that fight.

[dairy-farmer]

Dick gets horny when he became angry...

When he was in his teenage years, he remembered that after every fight he had with Bruce, he hid in his room and while tried to be quiet he did fuck his cock with his own hands

The same situation was happened with Barbara and Kori when they were his lovers. After the arguments, he recalled that he had fucked one of the fleshlights he had with anger and even hit the toy's cheeks, wanting it to redden from his abuse to it

It was only the expressions on their faces during those seconds when they were shouting at each other that caused Dick to boil inside. Why did everyone have to look sexier when they were angry?

However, none of them were at a level to match the situation he was experiencing with Tim...

After Tim created a costume and name of his own and saved Bruce, Dick went to the house where Tim lived alone in order to destroy the gap that had formed between them and spend time with his baby brother

And look, he knew he screwed up taking Robin away from Tim and giving it to Damian. He also knew that after Tim calmed down, he would understand how much Damian needed the costume to understand that he had a place in Gotham and become a better person

What he didn't realize was how much angry Tim would be with him...

Tim did not want to do anything with his older brother, who did not trust him and said that they were equal, and then caused him to question his own mind

He also said he knew that Dick was spending time with himself out of necessity and that he no longer had the energy to play this game

And then he left Dick in the middle of the hall to go to a different safe house...

Tim didn't notice his older brother's eyes starting to darken or the swelling that was starting to gush out of his pants

Dick, on the other hand, felt that he was going crazy. How could he think that he didn't love him and that he was spending time with him out of necessity? Dick would do anything for his baby brother... Had he forgotten that he had killed the Joker for him? Did he have to kill someone else for him to remember? He could have done it, as long as Tim came back to him

But no, he could have found Tim and showed him how much he loved him in another way. Sex was something between two people who loved each other and his little baby was smart enough to understand it. If he brought together that pussy he hid among his laundry and didn't show to anyone because he was ashamed, with his dick that kept getting bigger and bigger the more he thought about it, Tim could realize that he was loved again

So the first thing he had to do was to find out where his little brother, who was hiding, had gone. And if the quest evokes in him the same pleasure received by the hunter who is trying to catch his prey, if his thoughts are becoming less and less vanilla, this was not something that anyone should know

As soon as he found his baby brother, he entered the house quietly through the window, holding Tim's arms with one hand without allowing his little baby to experience awareness, causing him to hit the wall

The taste of the coffee Tim had just drunk was coming through his lips. Dick could feel him trying to yell but he wouldn't let go. No, he would fuck his little brother until he couldn't walk anymore, then he would leave handprints on his little ass and enjoy him peeing on the bed because he lost his last attempt of control

Tim could not be angry with his big brother, whom he loved very much. He could not try to escape from his love and leave his big brother alone...

Dick was never going to let that happen...

i LOVE dick's anger issues getting the spotlight, and the idea of him sort of conditioning and associating his anger with the promise of release is so good. and then tim!!!! he's angry and upset with dick which makes dick upset- which makes dick angry.

all those pent up feelings have been building up for so long and now dick is angry and horny and tim is to blame so of course tim will make up for it. tim is going to let his darling big brother fuck him until he wasn't able to stay angry at dick. until the only resistance from him was a poor little pussy weakly clenching around dick's cock as he fucked in deep enough to bruise timmy's womb. dick is normally a gentle lover. he's not harsh or bruising- except for when he's angry and tim had really made him angry.

[msfcatlover]

Yet more Reverse!Robins

(Calling back to my tags on this post, and one of the images from this one that live rent free in my brain.)

Joker gets bored torturing Jason on his own after a couple days, and sends out invites to all the other rogues (or at least, the ones he’s pretty sure won’t rat him out and end the fun) about a “surprise present” he’s working on for Batman. Steph has absolutely no interest involving herself in Joker’s nonsense, so she immediately throws it out and focuses on securing her area of the city to keep her people safe. She doesn’t think much more of it.

Six days later, Tim shows up at the door of one of her clubs. Not in costume, barely hiding his identity, hardly even armed (like, the bare minimum for walking around this part of town this late at night, and most of that is artfully hidden in his crutches & leg braces.) Aside from Damian or Bruce crashing the party to accuse Steph of stuff (that like 60% of the time she didn’t even do,) none of the Bats have ever approached Steph in an actual place of business before. She’s curious. She tells security to let him in, and show him to her table.

“Mr. Wayne,” Steph says, because fuck it, if Tim’s only going to mess up his hair and barely slap some concealer over the dark circles under his eyes, she isn’t gonna maintain his identity for him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tim shakes her hand, looks her dead in the eye, never glancing at her guards or flinching at his name. A proper little businessman, in a ratty band t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. “I need a favor.”

“You? Need a favor from me?”

“Yes.”

“The great Timothy Wayne?”

“I didn’t come here to play games.” Tim glares. “Yes, I need your help. Yes, it has to be you. Yes, I am out of other options. No, I am not above groveling—”

“Really?”

“Steph.”

“Don’t,” she growls back, “try to play this like we’re friends, Tim.”

Tim crosses his arms and scowls off to the side. “…Fine. We’ll keep it professional.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you on your knees.” Tim’s eye twitches as Steph takes a sip of her drink. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“I told you, need a favor,” Tim repeats.

“Well, that could be anything,” Steph says, rolling her eyes behind her mask.

“My little brother’s missing.”

Steph’s drink goes down the wrong way. She forces herself to swallow her cough. Steph clears her throat to mask it, and sets her drink back on the table.

Tim continues like he didn’t notice. “The police can’t find him. The Bats can’t find him. I have been leveraging every advantage I’ve got, but nobody has seen him in over a week—”

Ice slips down Steph’s spine as she remembers the invitation she’d thrown out right around a week ago.

“—but you have contacts they don’t.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I know you hate us, I know you…” His eyes flicker towards her guards. “…You’ve made your opinions very clear—”

“I should certainly hope so,” Steph mutters.

“—but whatever you think of me, or Bruce, or Cass, Duke, Damian, anybody, Jason’s innocent. He’s suffered enough.” Tim has a warning in his eyes: You’ve hurt him enough. Like she’d actually tried to kill the kid or something (if Steph wanted Jason dead, he’d be dead; honestly, she didn’t even leave any permanent damage. Her lesson was no harsher than anything any of them got on a bad patrol, she was just more open about the point she was making.) “He’s just a kid.”

“And yet, you keep letting him out into this city.”

Anger flashes across Tim’s face, but he visibly chokes it down. “I’m not having this conversation with you. This has nothing to do with Jason’s hobbies or field trips, or whether or not you approve of them. This is about a 15yr old kid, missing in Gotham City, following the biggest Arkham breakout in the last 10yrs. Are you going to help or not?”

Steph sighs, propping one elbow on the table and leaning on her fist. “What have you got for me?”

“Jason snuck out for a party nine days ago—the night of the breakout.” (Translation: Jason was in uniform, probably on patrol.) “We have a system where even if he doesn’t want Bruce to know what he’s doing, Jason still calls me to check in every 2hrs. He checked in a little before 2, because he said he was about to be ‘really busy’ and didn’t want me to worry. I told him to go home. He told me he’d be fine, that he wasn’t anywhere near the mayhem.” Tim’s expression is flat, dead. “He didn’t check in again. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since. There have been no ransom demands. Last sighting was outside of Genevieve’s in Burnley.”

The invitation arrived six days ago exactly.

Steph needs to go. Steph needs—Steph needs to find that letter, she can’t remember if it had an address or a time, she can’t—

“I’ll pay whatever you want,” Tim tells her, seemingly unaware of how Steph’s breath is caught in her lungs (remembering what it was like to be 16, tiny, and at the whims of a madman. Eight full days. Did Steph suffer that long? She doesn’t think so, but the time all blurs together under the pain…) “Money is obviously no object. Weapons? Name them. Tech? I’ll build it for you myself. I can wipe your record clean. I can keep the Bats off your back. I can—” Tim swallows. “My balance isn’t the best anymore, but if you want me on my knees, I can beg. If you need me to demonstrate my gratefulness or if you need someone to hurt, I—”

“Oh my god, STOP!” The table wobbles as Steph jumps to her feet, nearly spilling her ginger ale—but then, she doesn’t really want it anymore. Her stomach is one giant knot, and she’s really regretting those onion rings she had earlier.

“Please,” Tim says, soft and far more earnest than Steph can deal with right now. “He’s my little brother. I… it’s my fault he thought he could go out like this. If there’s anything you can do…”

Steph needs to get to her office. She needs to find that note, and if she can’t find it, she needs to find Joker’s delivery boy so she can beat the answer out of him. She steps away from the table. “I’ll get back to you.”

Tim grabs Steph’s wrist as she passes by. “Please—”

“I said, I’ll get back to you,” Steph snaps, yanking her arm out of his grip. She looks away from Tim’s wounded expression. “I can’t do anything if you’re dragging me down.”

Tim’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you.”

“…You owe me. Whether I find him or not.”

“Thank you.”

Steph walks away. She doesn’t look back.

(She shoots Joker in the throat, grabs the nearest heavy object—curved & metal, but much else doesn’t register—and beats the clown’s head in while screaming insults in League dialect. She strips down to her suit’s under layer to keep Joker’s blood away from Jason, tossing her gloves away without caring about fingerprints, and kneels down in front of Jason, making herself as small as possible. She undoes the bonds, checking his injuries, and when Jason collapses into Steph’s arms, she holds on. Steph cradles Jason in her arms, helps him rehydrate from her water bottle, and apologizes in every language she knows for not being there for him sooner.)

(Without the mask or the armor, with Steph’s hair pulling wild & sweaty out of its braid, she doesn’t look nearly so much like the villain who hurt him before. Jason wonders if he’s dead or dreaming, to finally have the hero he looked up to for so much of his childhood decide he’s worth saving after all.)

(Steph would go to the ends of the earth to protect him from that point forward. When questioned, she just mutters something about not “letting all that work go to waste.”)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Batfam gets deaged au

The entire batfam just kinda blink from there they're standing in an obvious battlefield. The city around them is damaged by the bad guy they must have been fighting before they...what happened exactly?

A sudden shout from a child cleared a few things up, "Look! Mommy! Robin is a child again!" Damian made a disapproving sound just as Tim said, "I'm not that young."

It was then that they started fighting about who was Robin as they couldn't both be. Damain demanded to know if Red Robin had hit his head because he stopped being Robin a few months ago.

Red Robin argued that he didn't remember anything and this had to be a trick of some sort.

Jason had run off with his guns out, Barbara was playing with the upgraded to her wheelchair in the tower, Cass was watching these strange people from where she had fled into the shadows, Signal was freaking out and wondering when he became a vigilante in the first place, but he had to admit that yellow looked good on him, Spoiler was enjoying the chaos, and Nightwing was looking at the younger vigilantes and muttering to himself, "There's more of them. Why is there more of them-"

As it turns out, they were all de aged to different times in thier lives and were not at all synced up. They only started talking it out when Tim's phone rang and someone named "Jazz" was on the other end asking if they were okay and if he and Phantom were still going to visit his parents this afternoon.

Finding a lead about what was happening, they all started bombarding her with questions and she told them to meet her at a specific safehouse that apparently belonged to Tim.

Meeting her was a treat and she fretted over them and made sure they were okay before answering all the questions she could.

She then asked about her brother, who was apparently with them when the de aging event went down, but none of them noticed an extra person, especially one that went missing.

Finding Danny via his tracking devices the bats (mainly tim) had placed on him in the past and thanks to Jazz they discovered he was heading back to Amity Park, thier hometown, for whatever reason.

Jazz explained that he was likely de aged as well and thinks the city of Amity Park is still under attack from the beings coming out of the hell portal thier parents created and maintained. When they were shocked by this she just shrugged and told them this is part of why thier parents were locked up in Arkham. The real problem was that Amity doesn't exist anymore and its ruins were largely taken over by rogue GIW agents that prowled around looking for any ghosts to catch even if one hadnt shown up there in years. And Phantom was running straight towards the danger without realizing it.

After batman and Nightwing left to go rescue this ghost guy, Tim and Barbara do some investigating and discovered that Tim was married to Jazzs brother Daniel and that his inlaws are in Arkham. He had Arkham In-Laws. Wtf.

Tim realized Jazz referred to Phantom as her brother a few times so since Daniel was the only brother on record then they must be the same person. Neat.

"At least your husband is hot." Spoiler commented unhelpfully, "You did good."