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#bruce loves his son
mylifeingotham · 2 months
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trashmakerarticle · 6 months
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Everyone thinks that dick was the golden child when in reality it was Jason.
Clark: Bruce who was your favourite robin?
Dick: obviously it’s me?
Tim: it’s dick
Damian: I am superior robin, it will be me.
Bruce: it’s Jason
Everyone: WHAT?!?!???
Bruce: why are you so surprised? He didn’t jump on too my chandeliers which I had to replace each week
*everyone looks at dick*
Bruce: he didn’t drop out of school
*everyone looks at tim*
Bruce: I didn’t have to stop him from killing everyone who annoyed him
*everyone looks at Damian*
Bruce: in fact, he enjoyed school and handed all his homework in on time, we would spend hours in the library reading his favourite classics. He even helped Alfred with most of the cooking, He was my little boy
Jason: stop spreading lies, I hate you go away
Bruce: my precious little boy
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bbbbbbbbatman · 4 months
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Here’s how I want robin in the next battinson movie:
The very first scene is Bruce and tiny Dick Grayson sitting across from each other at the dining table, staring each other down in silence, both clearly grumpy about it. Alfred is in the background watching them with concern. The silence lasts about 20 seconds before Dick speaks.
“Let me fight crime.” (said with all the petulance of a pouty 10 year old)
Bruce replies immediately. “No.” (this is clearly an ongoing argument)
Immediately cut to the next scene where Dick, wearing the iconic Robin suit, is having the time of his life swinging across the city while Bruce frantically tries to keep up with him while yelling at him to be careful like an anxious mother
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puppetmaster13u · 1 month
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Prompt 261
“So is no one going to talk about the eldritch space child or…” 
“I mean, do you want to get between a child and Batman? I think the only one who could even get close right now is Superman…” 
“No you’re right, I think- oh my god the eldritch space child is playing with batman’s bat-ears and he’s not doing anything about it what the fuck I thought only Robins could get away with that-” 
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.
He has an older brother
He was dead
(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)
Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.
The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.
His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.
However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.
Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.
(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)
(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)
(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")
("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")
(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")
(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)
(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)
"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"
Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."
Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.
(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)
But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.
And he scowls even deeper.
And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"
Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.
He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."
The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.
Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.
Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.
His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"
There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.
Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.
Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.
There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.
Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.
Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.
Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)
His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.
Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."
"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."
The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.
Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.
Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.
Danyal kills each one.
The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.
"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.
A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."
"Danya!"
Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.
(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)
The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."
Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.
"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.
Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"
"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."
"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.
Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.
Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.
Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."
Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."
"...So be it."
Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.
More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.
It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.
Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.
His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.
But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.
It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.
Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.
In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.
"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"
"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."
That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.
He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.
"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."
Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"
"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."
Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"
Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."
"What if one of us faked our death?"
Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.
Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"
"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.
"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."
Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.
Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.
The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."
Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."
Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."
Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.
Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."
The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.
Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.
...Was mother ever going to tell him?
The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.
His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.
His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.
Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.
The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.
So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.
He has an older brother
His older brother is alive.
(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc prompt#i promise this is a prompt#it just got very long#danyal al ghul au#my take on a danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#dpdc#dpxdc crossover#i know the usual gist is that danyal al ghul is a better knife thrower than he is a swordsman but hey#consider: phantom has a sword when he fights ghosts. how sick is that?#his ghost form having allusions to the LoA. its not obvious but its there#did i make danny brown skinned? yeah. because him being white or not is irrelevant to me and i wanted to make him darker skinned#thinking about the angst of bruce seeing his firstborn son going “i could stay with father!” and then said child being visibly crushed#when told no. and that he may never see his father ever. actually. if he fakes his death. and still doing it anyways for damian's sake#danny loves his little brother he just shows it in an unorthodox way. some of it is not his fault#also danny being an absolute grump in amity park is very funny to me. he's an arrogant little assassin child in AP who is only here for#his little brother's sake and safety. he loves his brother but that doesnt stop him from being an arrogant little brat#gremlin assassin child danny is so funny#i know this is very ironic for me to post after posting my thoughts on danyal al ghul aus and their missed potential#but actually this prompt is what spurred that post into creation in the first place actually.#because i was thinking about this au and then went “oh hey you know whats funny--” and then i#thought about it too much to the point where i had to make a post talking about it#tried to find a balance between danny being mature for his age and also still being a kid#like yeah he’s a trained assassin and has killed but also he’s a 10yo boy about to be separated - Assumingly permanently- from his family
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autisticrosewilson · 2 months
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While we're on the topic of De-aging AU's I wanna talk about Jason and Damian if Jason was 14 again real quick.
Do you guys think that Damian looks at this version of Jason, so different from the version he knows, nothing like the person he was told Jason was, and feels uncomfortably seen?
Damian was always told that Jason died because he was reckless, because he disobeyed orders, he was fired as Robin and he got himself killed. A cautionary tale, not a threat to his position. He dismisses Jason because Bruce does, because Dick does, because sometimes even Babs and Alfred do.
That's not the kid that he's looking at now. This Jason is happy, and smart, and full of love that has not yet soured into grief. He hangs on Bruce's every word, trains until his hands bleed and his body gives out to perfect the moves Bruce teaches him. He looks at Bruce with stars in his eyes and he calls him dad.
And Damian can't help but think, that this is the perfect Robin. The perfect son. And if Jason - sweet, loving, strong, Jason - can be fired, can die and have his room locked away and his pictures torn down, can have his last memory as Robin be as A Good Soldier, how could the rest of them ever compete? What could Damian do to stand a chance?
Jason will never grow out of the shadow of Robin, like the rest of them did. As long as Bruce, and Dick, and Babs, and Alfred look at him and see a dead kid who came back wrong, he will never get to be anything else. He will not get to be looked at through who he is now without the shadow of a dead boy looming over him.
And the worst part? Jason is exactly the same person he was back then. Bitter, sure, angry, justifiably, but he is still the boy with too much love in his heart and righteous fury festering in his gut. He is exactly the same boy who threw himself in front of an explosion to save his mother.
(The lines between the mother that betrayed him and the father that disgraced him are so very blurred. Fire or blade or crowbars or fists it does not matter. It ends the same way it always does because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe, in every timeline, Jason dies and crawls out only to be killed again and again and again.)
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"Please stop asking how I got in here," the white haired kid said, annoyance laced in his voice, "All I want to know is if any of you can do detective work in the supernatural world!"
Constantine just barely opened his mouth before the kid turned on him, "Not you! You have terrible reviews!"
Bruce tensed as Lazarus green eyes locked on him, "How about you? You're the worlds greatest detective, right? I know you probably won't take gold as payment since Bruce Wayne is your sugar daddy, but I can offer up information on the Infinite Realms instead!"
Batman, calm and collected even as Green Arrow and Flash snickered from across the room, "Infinite Realms?"
Phantom grinned, "Is that an agreement? Cause Prince Psaro could really use your help. He has so many questions, and the answers may save his life. You want to save the life of a teenage boy surrounded by demons and monsters, don't you?"
Bruce stared at the teen, not looking away even with Constantine motioning not to agree, Bruce nodded.
And in a moment, they were gone. They reappeared in a grand hall with a ruby eyed teenager looking impossibly small from his place on the massive throne. Silver hair shined oddly in the light of the purples flames that danced in the sconces, making the boy seem more ethereal.
"Hey Psaro!" The white haired kid from before greeted, "I brought you a detective like you asked. Don't forget you have to teach me magic now!" The first teen vanished without a trace leaving Batman and what he now recognized as an angsty goth alone together.
As it turns out Psaro had many questions and offered to pay him a generous amount in gold each day.
Some of his questions include:
What kingdom was my human mother a princess of?
Why can't I remember key information from my childhood, such as my brothers very existence?
I was framed for the murder of all of the "Chosen Heros" loved ones. How do I prove im innocent before he comes to take off my head?
Why do Rose's tears shatter?
Is there a way to stop his younger brother from destroying the world without caging him or killing him?
Ect.
Bruce has his work cut out for him, but between the mysterious white haired kid popping in now and then to give him cryptic conversations, the team on litteral monsters he was given to defend himself with, and his access to royal libraries and vaults this might not be so bad
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greyangelpain · 4 months
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she's literally the best choice, i dont care what anyone says ^-^
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rezhood · 14 days
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People say Jason was being over dramatic becoming Red Hood instead of just going home to Gotham after coming back to life but honestly if Talia had even one recording of any of the unhinged insults Bruce canonically said about Jason while he was dead I think it becomes completely understandable if not a mild reaction
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fanaticalthings · 2 years
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I can't stop thinking about Bruce coming to the realization that his children are grown up.
Like this man is huge, he used to absolutely dwarf his little Robins, and could carry each of them in one arm at some point.
This man will hug one of his kids and realize they no longer fit under his arm anymore, that some of them are, and will become taller than him.
He'll probably reminisce how his children used to hide under his cape whenever they felt scared or just wanted to have fun, and Bruce realizes that they're all so grown that they can't really do that anymore and that they don't really need to rely on their dad to protect them now, and I bet he just tears up at that.
He'll just be sitting in his office, looking at all his children's photos from when they were younger and he'll feel so proud at how far they've come, but also a little devastated at how he can't just scoop his kids up and shield them from everything the world throws at them.
I bet when Bruce is especially in his feels, he'll just think about when he first got each of them and how small and cute they all were, how they all slowly began to see him as their father, how they used to crawl into his bed when they wanted his comfort :')
Bruce will just think about how they each brought joy back into his life and how he'd literally do anything to keep them safe cuz those are his babies.
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mylifeingotham · 2 months
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vechter · 2 months
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detective comics (1937) #725 // the great believers, rebecca makkai // hesitate to call, louise glück // batman: battle for the cowl (2009) #1 // titans (2008) #21 // the aftermath, caitlin conlon // superman/batman (2003) #76 // i built the walls myself, arch budzar // batman: battle for the cowl (2009) #1 // titans (2008) #15 // detective comics (1937) #874 // postcolonial love poem, natalie díaz // batman (1940) #687 // batman and robin (2009) #1 // i can tell it's aquarius season because my knuckles are splitting, caitlin conlon // superman/batman (2003) #76 // u.k. // batman and robin (2009) #2 // titans (2008) #23 // u.k. // batman (1940) #681 // coded signals, caitlin conlon // titans (2008) #15 // batman and robin (2009) #1 // against silence, frank bidart
dick + being batman
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nerdpoe · 9 months
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Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, was on a solo mission when he disappeared off the face of the earth.
He would be the first to admit; he'd been an idiot.
He'd had a fight with Bruce, and as a result wiped everything he could so that the Big Bat couldn't find him and interfere with his case.
He'd scrubbed everything with Barbara's help, gave Damian and Tim burner phones so that he could reach out to them, and fuckin bounced.
But he shouldn't have done that.
Because he'd lied to Barbara, to make absolutely certain Bruce wouldn't be able to find him before he was ready.
He'd gone somewhere for a mission on the entirely opposite side of the country.
And then he'd gotten shot with...some kind of gun.
He wasn't too sure.
But he didn't die.
After he pulled himself further into the forest, sure that he was going to finally meet his maker, the world...got bigger.
Dick shrunk, and could only watch in horror as his hands got pudgier and pudgier.
He was a baby.
He was a baby that couldn't even lift his head, and he could feel his memories starting to fade, seeming to be grabbed and shoved behind some sort of wall.
This tiny baby gets found by Forest Ranger Samantha Manson, a registered emergency foster parent.
So while the batfamily is salting the earth looking for Dick, he's being absolutely spoiled fucking rotten by the Manson Family; Daniel Manson, Tucker Manson, and Sam Manson.
Dick has...some memories. A few recollections.
But also the white-haired adult is floating again and waving the rattle-noise-maker, so those stupid thoughts can wait.
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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hello hello! After a few posts of this premise I just had to say something and because you just make them come to life I just had to ask :) anyway, Danny let’s say in seriously injured by the giw or even his parents but he is reverting to his core and he goes to Clockwork to help since he’s the one he’s the most closest ghost to and kinda his guardian ghost, Clockwork sees that he himself will not be able to help forever and finds a different solution. He takes Danny’s core and makes a magic safe guard and puts his core inside in the guise of a doll like this one:
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But with Danny’s coloration! He sends Danny to Gotham and ends up being picked up by Robin!Jason who thinks he’s cute and gets attached, Danny is weak but trying to gather ectoplasm but sends a sense of gratefulness to Jason who feels it but is a bit confused but happy he saved a doll. He brings it with him everywhere and takes it with him everywhere but when Jason dies and buried Danny is sat at his grave and he wakes up a little earlier with Danny and brings with him. He gets a strange attachment and feeling of safety with the doll and then is able to talk to it and Danny and him become closer and when he eventually reunites with everyone and things smooth over he feels it’s fine to bring Danny the doll to the mansion and the others realize that Jason has a haunted fucking doll and with the already thin trust they can’t do hair when Danny messes with them with moving their stuff, appearing out of nowhere, and being all around creepy but he helps Alfred so Jason has no issues and finds it funny. There are probably times where they try to dispose of it anyways but comes back completely fine and they become even warier but Danny is just having the time of his life while eating his ectoplasm while helping them with cases and finding things and such and Alfred even defends him when they try to talk Jason around about the creepy doll and is like “Did you stay at my grave 24/7 in all weather? That’s what I thought.” When Tim tries to get evidence he takes a picture of the doll all he sees is a boy around the age Jason died with pale soft blue eyes staring back with a soft smile that even if it wasn’t really creepy he still felt a chill down his spine
First of all, the photo almost gave me a heart attack. Haunted dolls terrify me (ironically, I fear ghosts.) But honestly, I love the prompt, so here you go!
Jason moves back into the manor- sort of. He's still in the middle of his hostile takeover of Crime Alley, but things are a little less stressful between the family. Maybe it was because Jason's Pit Madness was slowly disappearing, thanks to his friend Danny.
Danny was a great listener and always willing to help Jason sort through his feelings and thoughts. He was the reason that Jason chose to try to talk things out with Bruce before going through his insane idea of attacking Tim at the Titian Tower.
Which, you know, Tim was grateful he didn't actually go through with it after finding the plans in some of Jason's stuff while helping him move. The fact he wanted to wear his old Robin outfit- which would not fit on his body now- would have been beyond traumatizing enough, thank you very much.
"I know." Jason laughed as the rest of the family crowded around the plans. Even Damian seemed a bit disturbed by what was written. "Danny made me realize I didn't have the skinny legs to pull off the outfit."
Tim has never met Danny, but he has heard about him. Jason spoke about him when he followed Bruce and Jason around with his camera, which was enough for him to know Danny was likely a childhood friend.
Of course, Danny went by the code "Doll" in those days. Personally, Tim had always assumed that Jason and Danny shared a relationship that went beyond friends.
It had been another reason that Jason was his favorite Robin. If Robin could like boys, then Tim could too, and the knowledge that one of his literal heroes was like him helped Tim accept himself faster.
He never brought it up, even as Jason slowly gained control over Crime Alley as a Crime Lord- one that didn't kill because it would make Danny sad, which was another point in his secret boyfriend checkbox list.
Everything was fine- until Bruce found out about Danny.
"Jason, I thought you outgrew Danny," Bruce uttered hesitantly as Jason explained how Danny had fallen over himself when describing his Titain Tower plan.
Jason's eyes flashed green at once, and everyone in the cave grew tense.
"I will never outgrow Danny!" The second oldest barked, his neck muscles straining.
Now Tim knew that Danny was a secret, so he never brought him up despite the burning need to ask every question under the sun about him. Jason wasn't out to the rest of the family- detectives or not- that was up to Jason to decide when they would know.
He just always assumed Bruce knew since, you know, his son called his best friend Doll back when he was fourteen and running around in green spandex.
How could he not know? Did he want Jason to change his cape out for a rainbow and sing musicals at the top of his lungs on Wayne Tower?
Actually.....Jason did sing in musicals at his drama club. Honestly, Bruce was in denial.
Jason may not be out, but Tim wouldn't let Bruce bully him about his lover!
"Jason can have whatever friends he wants! And feel whatever he feels about them!" Tim snares, and that causes Dick, Damian, and Steph to bristle. They stand beside a huffing Jason, slowly coming down from his rage at the sight of support.
Cass and Alfred watch from the Batcomputer, a tension around their eyes the only sign that they, too. Bruce intelligently raises his hands in a placating manner.
"I did not mean anything wrong by that, Jason. I'm just surprised Danny still has such a strong hold on you." Bruce starts, his eyes never leaving his boy's face, even with all his other children flocking around him. "I thought Danny was lost when you died."
There is a long pause where Tim considers the words. It's a fair assumption. After all, Danny thought Jason had died and been buried. Why would he wait around after that?
Even the Bats still didn't know what caused Jason to come back. How would a civilian possibly begin to consider his boyfriend returning from the grave- or Tim assumes to be a civilian since Danny had never joined them on the field? He had to be in the know for Jason to tell him the plans comfortably.
"He waited every day, twenty-four seven at my grave," Jason tells Bruce, puffing up his chest. "He was with me when I was in a coma and when I was practically brain-dead on the streets. Hell, he was even there when the League of Assiasns brainwashed me!"
Damian jerks in surprise. He always gets taken aback by how casually Jason admits being part of the organization of his upbringing, no matter how briefly. Not even Bruce does that. "I....was unaware Daniel had been with you. I never saw him."
"Talia allowed me to have him with me just as long as I kept him tied up in my closet so he wouldn't be spotted."
Everyone but Alfred and Bruce step back, staring in horror at Jason. Tim can figure out by their reactions alone that everyone in the Bats had come to the same conclusion as he did about Danny being Jason's lover then.
After all, it's hard to hide that kind of thing from the family of detectives.
How could I have missed this? Tim thinks in dismay. Quickly, his brain runs through every time Jason has so much as hinted at Danny, trying to spot the signs that apparently his brother was abusive and honestly psychotic towards his boyfriend.
"Jason," Dick began in the same casual tone he usually used on hostile witnesses. "Where is Danny now?"
" Upstairs in my closet. He kept trying to escape, so I had to switch to chains." The responses are as easy as they are casual. Tim's stomach drops.
Quickly, he makes eye contact with Steph, who very quickly lowers her chin at him, and then his eyes flicker to the others. Damian's hands have curled, while Dick moves casually to stand behind Jason, which will make it easier to restrain him.
How long had Danny been up there? How many days and nights did he spend held against his will in the one place that should have been the safest of Gotham?
They all tense their muscles, ready to strike-
"Danny is a doll," Bruce suddenly speaks up, his eyes flickering to all of the gathered children with a wild, alarmed look. Ah, he caught on to the fact they were about to take Jason down. "A doll that Jason found in Crime Alley. Made of porcelain and fabric. Not a person."
The Bats are still eyeing their father with sharp, trained eyes, but Alfred's agreeing nod has them relaxing. Oh, thank the gods!
"Of course, Danny isn't a person," Jason replies mystified. He is unaware of how close he came to being jumped. As it were, the Bats stepped away from him as he looked around, confused. "Why would I have a person chained up in my closet?"
Bruce gets a strange, sad smile on his face. "Yes, Chum, why would you."
Tim isn't following. "If Danny is a toy-"
"A doll." Jason cuts in with a hard edge to his voice.
"Right, sorry, if Danny is a doll, why must you chain him up?"
Jason smiles. "Cause Danny runs the first chance he gets."
What?
"Danny is a haunted doll," Bruce starts, only to have Jason huff.
"No, he isn't! Danny is not haunted; he's just curious." Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, he never stays still, and okay, sometimes things disappear around the house, but that doesn't necessarily mean a haunting!"
"Master Jason, might I remind you that while you and Mister Danny were first living here, I caught the vacuum moving by itself?" Alfred calls. "I also remember that Mister Danny's head turned to me and followed my movement as I dusted."
"He just wanted to help you clean," Jason defends in a rather childish manner that Tim never thought he would see from someone his age. Maybe that's why Bruce was worried Danny was still around. "He's not a ghost."
"Chum, I hear laughter from your room even when you are not home." Bruce starts. "The laughing started the day you brought Danny home."
"He can tell great jokes!"
"Wait, tells jokes? Jason, does Danny talk to you? " Steph questioned, looking a tiny bit spooked. Oh yeah, she hates ghosts. Tim forgot her fear of them after living so close to the Gotham cemetery and all the nasty ghost stories surrounding it.
Jason blinks down at her, likely forgetting they were present, before considering the question. He moves his hand in a so-and-son motion. "He tries, but it sounds like fast past whispers. I have to strain to hear him."
"Jason," Dick says with an easy-going smile that belies the worry in his eyes. "That's haunting one-oh-one. You're haunted."
"No, a haunting implies that Danny is dead, which he is not. Danny is just resting until his body can reform. I think he's an alien." Jason taps his chin. "He told me before that his species are the conscious manifestation of ectoplasm but that their souls are within a small core, they can retreat to when badly injured. Danny was really hurt, so he's taking a while to reform."
Bruce's strained smile becomes tighter. "We can have Zatanna or Consitine take a look at him. They might-"
"I'll blow your fucking head off if you try it, old man" Jason's eyes were a bright green, an animistic sneer at his lips, and bloodlust was thick in the air. The abrupt change makes Tim wonder if he has passed out and missed the trigger.
Bruce sighs. "Of course, Jason. Why don't you show everyone, Danny? I think it's time they meet him."
Jason beams, shooting up the stairs to go get his doll. Everyone watches him go, and until they are sure he can not hear them, they burst into conversation.
"Jason is definitely haunted!" Dick despairs, throwing himself dramatically on a nearby chair. "We need to do something! Get it away from him."
"We will do no such thing," Alfred huffs. "Mister Danny is a fine young ghost who helps Master Jason. It would be unwise to separate them."
"As much as I hate to admit it, even Dinah claims that the two are good for each other." Bruce says, likely unhappy that Black Canary used her therapy license against him, "Apparently, Danny is Jason's support doll."
Before anyone can say anything else, Jason races down the stairs with a broad smile. In his hands is a beautiful porcelain doll with black fabric hair, a fine little king suit made from expensive material, and a pretty painted face.
Its green glass eyes- colored to seem almost watery- seemed to stare into everyone's soul as Jason held him up for the room to see. Danny had no facial expression- not even a smile, just a soft, relaxed neural set of features that were popular in the era he was likely made in, but the eyes held emotions.
There was definitely something intelligent and aware in them.
Tim shuddered.
"Oh, Tim, can you take our picture? It's Danny's first time in the cave, and I want to commemorate the date!" Jason suddenly asks, rocking on his heels like he used to do as Robin. Tim wonders if Danny was doing that to him- reverting him to a child-like mind.
If so, was that a good thing? Should he let it keep happening?
"Sure, Jason," He says, instead picking up his camera that he had taken on patrol. He aims his lends, trying to find the perfect lighting as his older brother quickly holds the doll up in his arms, allowing it' head to be at the same level as his face.
Tim snaps the picture, but when he looks at the screen, a shiver runs down his spine, and it takes all his training not to scream.
Jason's smirk is not out of place for his hulky form. He takes up most of the frame, but where Danny the doll is, there is a faint outline of another person. A teenager, maybe a year younger than Jason, with pretty features, a copy of the beauty in Jason's arms, but much more human, yet not human, is smiling at the camera.
He's about a head shorter than Jason, but even with the softness of his smile, Tim has never been more creeped out in his life.
Jason is definitely haunted.
"How did it come out?" Jason asks as Danny's doll head turns to look at Damian. The younger boy imminently moved back, hiding behind Bruce. The doll's eyes followed him, almost amused by the boy's actions.
"G-good." Tim stammers. Steph is already racing for the safety of Bruce's cape, joining Damian. "Danny is beautiful."
Jason pauses, tilting his head as if hearing something, eyes flickering down to his right where the teenager ghost stood for the picture, and then grins.
"Of course he means it." Jason's ears turn pink as he admits, "I also think you're the most gorgeous person I've ever met."
Okay, Jason is definitely being haunted by someone he might have a crush on. That's....something Bruce has to deal with because Tim is the younger brother, not the dad, and thank god for that.
He might be wrong, but he gets the sense that the doll is blushing even though nothing changes.
It's not my circus and will never be my monkies. Tim thinks racing to Bruce's cape is a good idea as well. He is scared to be out here in the open like Dick and Cass.
Those two might be okay with being haunted, but Tim isn't. Just in case, he'll have to steer clear of the manor for a few days.
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Dying at this idea I just had: People become convinced Danny is the love child of Bruce Wayne (known manwhore) and Harley Quinn, because
-he looks just like a young Bruce, if (somehow) marginally paler, but with Harley’s button nose and big eyes.
-Then there’s his big, Harleyesque personality with Bruce’s faith in humanity and both’s proclivity for taking action against what they see as wrong.
-He’s a gymnastics champion like Harley with real intelligence buried deep under layers of plain silliness, though much more capable sobering up when situationally appropriate.
-Dangerous big animals love them and they have no answers why
-Both Danny and Bruce have BDE (Big Dad Energy)
-(also both Danny and Harley are high key metas but everyone just doesn’t mention that)
Both Harley and Danny do everything in their power to feed the rumors (without saying anything directly, that would be cheating), including Harley egging Bruce on camera while shouting “pay up bitch!” And Danny taking up wearing one of Harley’s jackets.
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flamingpudding · 7 months
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Ghost Kitten
A/N: I got fascinated with the idea of Danny being Selina's son and then during work this sort of idea formed in my head.
Danny wasn't supposed to know yet. Jack had it all prepared for when Danny would get to learn about this. But this, this was not how Danny was supposed to learn about his origins yet. Jack Fenton wasn't sure how to react, so he ended up possible reacting in the worst way possible if he judged it by the way his sweet little boy was looking at them.
Jack tried to remember where it went wrong. Jazz had come to them, told them Danny wanted to have an important talk. That it was so important that she needed both of them to focus on him seriously. It had worried Maddie and him at first and when they sat down on the couch facing their children they weren't sure what to expect. But then his boy told him about the accident he had in the lap, about how things changed even asking them if they ever noticed how Danny's behaviours changed.
Jack had to admit then, that he hadn't really noticed and it made his mouth taste like dirt. He didn't like where this was going. He saw how his children exchanged a glance and then his sweet boy told them the truth and Jack could feel the horror overtaking his entire mind. The accident had changed Danny even worse.
He couldn't help but remember a term he had last heard long ago before his collage years even. Meta Human. His son had become a Meta human with ghost based powers and had kept it a secret from them for so long. Jack didn't know how to react then and still didn't know now. All he could think about were the horrors he had put his sweet little son through. All the times he had offhandedly said he would tear him apart molecule by molecule. In how much fear did his son have to live until he gathered enough courage to tell them, most likely only because Jazz was there to support him?
Jack didn't want to imagine it anymore. All he wanted was to hug his little boy and tell him that everything would be okay but before he could do anything. Maddie, his until then wonderful, wife told them something in return they had an agreement over when to tell them.
"You're adopted. You are not my child."
Until then Jack had always thought Maddie loved Danny just as much as he did but as he locked at his wife and saw the steely coldness flickering in them with distress. He wasn't so sure anymore. Torn between being angry at Maddie for the first time after so long and wanting to comfort his boy, Jack could do nothing but sat frozen as his beloved family broke apart before his eyes.
Suddenly Maddie and Jazz got into a headed argument, Danny was starting to draw into himself, making himself smaller watching his mother and sister fight. Until Maddie stormed out fo the room. Jazzie gave him a challenging look but Jack didn't know what to say so instead, what he had planned to tell his son when he turned 18 he was going to tell him now.
"Danny you know how we have barely any contact with family from my side? There is a reason behind it. But the important part here is that the only one I do keep sort of contact with is my fourth cousin and even that is nothing more than a couple messages ever few months."
"And what does that have to do with Danny?" Jazz pressed on while his little boy finally got the courage to look up at him.
"Dann-no, I need for you to now that no matter what you are or what I am going to tell you, you are my little boy, my son." Jack did everything he could to stare reassuringly at his boy and smiled once he saw him smile just a little too, he was most likely relieved that he was taking the news better than his mother.
"About 16 year ago, my fourth cousin contacted me out of the blue, till then we had only exchanged a couple of words and theories and projects. But that time was different. She was panicked, unsure and distressed. I don't know the specifics, all she told me was that she had gotten pregnant with a child from a fling who she wasn't sure wanted a relationship with or not and that she couldn't take care of a child in a city as dangerous as where she lived."
Understanding dawned on his daughter's face and Jack smiled fondly, Jazzie-pants had always been a smart cookie. "She didn't want to put the baby into her system, nor let a stranger take care of it. So she asked me and the moment I saw the little baby the first time. I knew he would be my son no matter what or how long she would want for me to take care of him."
Danny blinked wide eyed at Jack as finally his boy also understood what he was telling him. "Technically you are my fifth cousin, but I would prefer for you to stay my son for as long as you want."
He left his children after telling Danny the truth of his origin. Jack new he would love his son no matter what he was or his reaction towards the truth of his origins. Still he hoped this would not tear his family apart and that it would only take a day or two for Maddie to cool off for things to go back to an adjusted normal. Jack mused that he would have to diele back on the ghost ripping comments, he wouldn't want for his little boy to live in fear in their own house.
That what he thought until he saw his wife stewing in their bedroom, muttering about theories and how their boy wasn't their boy. He knew his wife, and dearly loved her. But it was because he knew her that he did the next thing he felt like regretting the next moment.
Danny is no longer safe with us. - J
He didn't get an answer from his cousin and the next morning he knew why. He did expect for her to want to remove Danny from their care, but he did not expect her to visit him with barely any time delay the next day.
All he could do was to stare and watch as Selina appeared on his doorstep with a man that was glaring at him and Jack might have only seen in magazines before, asking if she could meet her boy and how much he had already told Danny about his birth. And when he saw his baby boy's reaction to the two he wanted to do nothing more than hug and cuddle his little boy but once again, he got beaten to it by his fourth cousin.
His poor boy looked so unsure when Selina hugged him that Jack really wanted to take him away again, but he had no other choice, if he wanted to ensure his boy's safety.
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