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#spirit of adoption
puppetmaster13u · 9 months
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DP x DC Crossover where Danny gets de-aged more towards his ghost-age and got adopted.
But he didn't exactly get adopted by a batfamily member, or even any hero, or a villain.
Honestly this Talon who just found a literal toddler that surfaced in a runoff of the Lazarus Pit is rather confused. Like on one hand should they be killing it?? But the idea of killing the strange tiny talon-sibling seems so viscerally wrong???
Welcome to having the first mental breakdown of many funky golden-eyed man that Danny thinks might be more feral than he is. Oh well, at least this person isn't a fruitloop and speaks in sort-of ghost speak? And sometimes more gold-eyed people appear to help care for him? Like they obviously don't know how to do so, but they're trying their best and honestly he's pretty self-sufficient. Ish.
The Court of Owls have no fuckin' clue where a good third of their Talons have disappeared to or why they can't call them back.
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ophanim-vesper · 9 months
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everyone wants Chihiro and Haku to reunite but WHAT ABOUT THEM
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
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bluerosefox · 4 months
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Summoning the Summoner
Another summoning/long lost family au but with twist!
So Damian and his class are at Gotham museum for a small field trip for a school project. Thing is none of them knew until it was too late that the new museum curator was part of a cult that had plans to kidnap and sacrifice this class of kids for some ancient god/deity/spirit.
Damian barely manages to send a message to one of his brothers and to the cave before being knocked out when he sees his classmates dropping from knocknout gas.
When he wakes up the preparations for the sacrifice are almost ready. Damian being the most prominent person in the class is going to be the one chosen first. He is then taken to the alter and it begins after the whole villain speech. Damian does manage to get out of his bindings and tries to fight back, does lead them on a merry little chase to get more time for his family to come, nothing to Robiny though, but is forcibly restrained again.
Just as they bring Damian back to the alter none of them notice, or rather, care that Damian was bleeding from getting hit when they recaptured him. None of them notice when the blood dropped from his chin onto the summoning circle because the Batclan (any) just dropped into the room.
They did notice however when the summoning circle started glowing beneath them however.
And none of the cultists had time to finish the summoning chant.
Meaning the summoning circle was not under their control.
And before any of them could do anything, they are all ripped away from the Mortal Realm and everyone, Damian, his class, the cultists, and the Batfam in the room are pulled into the Infinite Realms.
They are no longer in the warehouse they were about to be sacrificed in but in a throne room. Surrounded by glowing floating people and some don't even look human.
And sitting on the throne was a teenager with a shoulder wrapped cape made of stars and galaxies, a crown of ice, stars, and aurora borealis lights shifting in between them, about Damian's age, with white hair and glowing green eyes who looked rather shocked.
The reason? Both him and Damian shared the same face.
-x-x-
Danny was annoyed as heck.
Ever since his crowning it was like every magic user from legendary to mediocre got a notice that a new Infinite Realms King had been crowned and that gave them the go ahead and try to freaking Summon him!
Luckily refusing a summons was well within Danny's Ghost King rights, he's King now he does what he wants (Sam's wise words), and the only summonings Danny answered were his friends and family (Dani is such a troll with it though, butttttt it does get him out of those annoying meetings sometimes and they get to hang out wherever she decided to stop at), sometimes he'd answer the odd teenage morons just to scare them (it's always fun)
Although there were a few summonings outside of that, that he had answered. Thankfully he could sense what kind of summoner was summoning him and intent was always a huge thing. And those that didn't feel like insane fruitloops well... Danny's curiosity often took over.
So imagine his annoyance when he felt another summon happening in the middle of a meeting with his council. But also imagine his surprise when the normally tight demands on the summoning wasn't there...
That meant...
Oh Danny was going to have a lot of fun with this.
This meant they summoning but don't have control on which way the summoning was going to go. Meaning, Danny could reverse summon them to him instead.
With a wide grin he instantly waved his hand and the meeting room shifted to his throne room, might as well pull out all the stops and play the "Big Bag Ghost King"
He could see his council (and good friends and allies) raise their eyebrows at him or tilt their heads but could also sense the attempted summonings power of him and knew he had something planned.
With a short laugh, Danny raised his hand, grasped on the invisible summoning line, and pulled.
Now he was expecting a good amount of people, the summoning felt large so that normally meant cultists but he was expecting so many! Heck some looked to be teenagers his age, and a few oddly dressed people besides the cultists! Oh boy did that mean sacrifices?! Well he'll be happy to put those cultists in their place if that was the case.
But first, find the summoner. Separate them from the group and -
Oh... why... why does he have Danny's face?!
Danny took a quick look at the normally invisible to everyone but him Summoning line and almost choked when he saw it was a sibling line, a blood sibling line.
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little-pondhead · 2 months
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The Curse Of Hope
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Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.
The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.
“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”
That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.
Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.
“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.
The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.
“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”
Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.
The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”
Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.
-Or-
Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.
Luckily, Danny can provide that help.
But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.
#dpxdc#pondhead blurbs#Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck#the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years#like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle#actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it#it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf#basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck#those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years#Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him#there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham#I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that#anyways the Batfam are like#invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species#but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper#I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham#but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it#they think Danny is another curse come to plague them#should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written#sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned#crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park#oh shit is that a new ship#guys please I can’t keep doing this#Gotham City x Amity Park#how the fuck do you come up with a name for that#Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret#low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do
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lingrimmart · 7 months
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Spirit Fire
Taken! @
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jennguyen-draws · 1 year
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Damian with Zitka II
Text Bubble: Father, Zitka requires a companion. This giraffe shall suffice, thank you.
Because if you say "please, thank you" you can get anything you ask for, right?
Click here for Dick and Zitka, Jason and Zitka for Halloween, Tim Zitka and coffee, Duke and Zitka II ft. all siblings, Cassandra and bedtime, Stephanie’s tea party
[Image description]: A colorful drawing of kid Damian Wayne in front of a shelf with plush giraffes. He's holding Zitka the elephant under his arm and pointing a finger with his other hand at one of the giraffes. A textbubble to the right says: "Father, Zitka II requires a companion. This Giraffe shall suffice, thank you." [end ID]
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c-rowlesdraws · 7 months
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housesitting with a very large and affectionate dog as part of the gig means waking up every morning to this:
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moeblob · 2 months
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Help this trio + another guy was specifically designed to target me.
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kaltacore · 10 months
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the way cole makes varric conflicted is so delicious i think. most of the characters are uncomfortable around him because they're genuinely terrified of demons and the fade and magic in general but varric is a completely different case. the thing is, he doesn't see cole as a demon at all because he doesn't want to.
he acts like he doesn't care about this stuff. that's a little weird kiddo around here and he wants to befriend him. teach him something even. why not. that's a little guy who's a little too good with knives and can't pick up a single social clue at the same time.
but there it is. the "he could have been a person" line if cole is made more spirit. varric is so upset about it because it's not like he saw cole as, well, a spirit who got a little too human. for varric, he was a human first, a weird kid second. the spirit part didn't even come into consideration because. well. it would make him question things. you know where it goes.
every time he starts bitching about anders he brings up justice. justice drove him mad. justice took over him. justice this, justice that. justice is a scapegoat because the thought that someone varric was friends with was actually willing to blow up the chantry and it wasn't just some evil demon's wish is a very unsettling one. varric's friends may be crazy but they're cool and make no irreversible life decisions of that extent, don't they? blondie turned out this way because he let a demon possess him and make him do terrible things. completely out of the blue.
it's either varric's ex-friend has never been driven crazy by some inherently evil entity and there was a whole other person around him all along and that anger he used to mock was coming from the same place as compassion's urge to become a killer or that little weird but kind kid he started to care about has never been and will never be a real kid. he can't have both. a bitter pill to swallow for someone who has never picked a side in his life
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tending-the-hearth · 1 month
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thinking about how canonically the pevensie siblings are 13, 12, 10, and 8 in "the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe"
thinking about how lucy needed a stool to be able to get up onto her throne, how peter's sword is a little too large for him, how susan's bow is a little too difficult for her to pull back, how edmund's shield nearly covers his entire body.
thinking about the pevensie siblings and their first few months in narnia, getting to know their new people, and half the narnians sitting there horrified because WHAT have these literal babies been through to give them such traumatized, old eyes, and the other half of the narnians are preparing to adopt them, no it doesn't matter that they're the rules, they're children who are being put in charge of too many things, and if peter looks at the old man council long enough he's going to cry, so someone needs to give him paternal support while aslan is off doing Lion Jesus Stuff™️ and whoops oreius is being nice and encouraging and now he's adopted his kings and queens they're his kids now he doesn't make the rules.
just the narnians and the pevensies being thrown into it together, and just as the pevensies will do anything to protect their new kingdom, the narnians will do anything to protect their rules, because let's be honest, these children have no sense of self-preservation, and are far too overprotective of each other and their people to take into account their own safety, so a lot of battles it's just one of the pevensie siblings running headfirst into danger with oreius running after them because his kids are feral and don't know proper royalty manners and won't threatening old kings from different countries because they're being assholes and the last time one of them tried undermining the queens susan called him a self-righteous asshole and lucy tried to stab him SOMEONE help him corral his children please
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puppetmaster13u · 1 month
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Prompt 247
Danny grumbles, going limp as the Spirit plucked him up, holding him out like some sort of stray cat. Their golden eyes stared across him, white hair shimmering and bloodied feathers rustling as they tilted their head. 
“You sure he’s not somehow ours?” Bludhaven asks again, setting him down once more to circle. Amity laughs, wild hair the color of wheat fluttering in a non-existent breeze and portal pulsing like a heart as she rests a hand on his head. 
“Well darlin’, I am asking if you would be open to adopting,” the Spirit laughs, the sound as familiar as the birds outside his window in the mornings. “Well, I suppose I could always ask your dear sister Arkham-” 
“No no, I would be honored,” Bludhaven smiled a literally sharp grin, something mischievous and violent about it in a way Danny was slowly growing used to. “I’m just- look at the little ghostling! He looks like he could be from ours! My hair, your eyes… he’s just missing markings…” 
“Markings he’ll get once you give me an answer darlin’...”
“OH- Yes, of course! Sorry, I got whelmed there.” 
“You have been stalking your vigilante a bit too much there Blud.” 
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space-dreams-world · 3 months
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Inspired by this:
Except there's a twist: Danny adopts Dick, Jason, and maybe Tim.
Danny moved to Gotham (not bad end, but Vlad gets killed, trying to help Danny escape Amity Park, after de aging Dan and Ellie. Fentons, in their confusion and anger, make it even more unsafe for Danny to live there. Fortunately, Vlad made Danny his heir awhile ago, and in leaving, Amity closed their portal and Vlads. Vlad is a full ghost now. So now Danny is a runaway pregnant genderfluid teen that moves to Gotham, whether it be before the wayne murders or after. Jordan isn't born until a year into living in Gotham.)
He sets up a bakery/cafe near crime alley with his apartment on top of it and lab in the basement. He also owns a warehouse that he uses as a storage and training zone. He never makes homeless people pay, and if you can, it's a dollar. Even ghosts show up. He gets to know batman starting out and even maybe starts to court him as bats. They don't officially date until after catwoman reject his proposal, and Damian is permanently with Bruce.
Danny, while not at the circus prior to Graysons' murder, sees an escaped juvie grayson and is able to calm him down, even gets him to speak with his parents again and Danny with the help of Gotham threatens/scares Zucco into fearing for his life. He doesn't bring him back to Juvie but manages to save Dick's things and important paperwork. They declare him missing despite being needed in witness protection. Bruce wants to care for Dick but he doesn't have the same connection to Dick and sees Danny as his own Alfred, when B parents died. Danny raises Dick with a little help from Bruce.
Cannon events also happen, so Two-face and Joker get ahold of Dick for being near Batman and get beaten and shot. Danny brings Dick to the Far frozen and they heal him and he ensures to Two face/Joker that he will feel the same pain as what he has dealt to Dick and almost kills Joker but gets left with a warning.
Court of Owls actually loses Talons to Danny and are his and his kids' bodyguards now while trying to learn how heal them. Unfortunately, Bruce pulls back from the relationship with Danny, and this hurts them both.
Then,when Jason is on the streets, he sticks to near Danny's place and eventually gets adopted, too. Eleanor is born after. Jason loves his new family and is surprised that Bruce is back to dating Danny again. (Which hurts Dick because Bruce only came back for Jason)
In this scenario, Shelia reaches out to Jason for bribery reasons, and when Joker shows up, Danny is having none of it. He kills Mr. J crushes his soul and brings Jason to the Yeti, where he flatlines and gets to become a halfa instantly. This time, Danny is the one that pulls from Bruce as he never found out where Danny took Dick and now Jason to heal. So in the 6 months Jason was in the Zone practicing, Bruce took the worst of it and thought he was dead, but in reality Jason in the zone training with his powers and Dick helps out with his enhanced liminality. What seems like a death to Bruce is a coma or a loss of mobility for Jason. Bruce just assumes he's dead.
Dick grows up to be either a gymnast instructor or a social worker. Jason would be studying for literature or social or justice reform. Dan is a mechanic or security guard. He works part-time at the cafe and helps with branding and making the sweets. Jason, Jordan, and Ellie also help in the shop. Stephanie is a part timer.
Tim, during one of his photoscapedes, gets caught, and Danny and/or the kids save him and bring him to Danny. Tim, while dealing with years of parental neglect, stays with them, or Danny notifies Bruce of this. Either Tim stays with Danny, and despite Drakes having more money and power, Danny's otherness freaks them out and they decide fuck this or similar to cannon, Bruce adopts Tim.
Bruce, by the end of this, officially only has one or three kids: Damian, Cass, and/or Tim.
[I don't know if I want the boys into vigilante. It seems hypocritical for Danny to say no to vigilantism,but in another reality to this one, Danny says yes to the boys being vigilantes]
Hilariously, Danny and his kids show up to a Gala as Masters Heirs.
Jazz moves to Gotham after College to either be a doctor or work in Arkham.
Sam, while trying to leave her parents grasp, goes to Gotham for personal reasons and her parents threaten to cut her off from her inheritance unless she shows up at important events or Galas to support the Manson name.
Tucker is a tech fan and also moves to Gotham, but it is a bit of a recluse, but he takes an interest in teaching Babs, Dick and Tim in Hacking. He is an IT guy for Wayne Industries and an app creator.
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percyscart · 1 year
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accidental new hairstyle
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possibilistfanfiction · 3 months
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anything surgeons au, especially butch!bea omg
[an accidental 2.7k words of baby tai for the culture]
//
you don’t ask for beatrice to consult on the case just because the baby really does look like her in a tangible way: brown eyes that shine in the sun; gold skin; soft dark hair; a happy smile. tai — an orphan, which you also don’t prioritize when you ask her, but whatever — is small for her three months and quite sick, a bad valve in her tiny heart doing more damage than good. 
it’s a difficult surgery, complicated and intricate and, even though you’re the best in your field, a hardcore rockstar, you’re not a cardio surgeon. you ask beatrice to consult on the case because, even if you’d never admit it aloud in front of her, she is the best in the world.
‘dr. villaumbrosia,’ beatrice says, meeting you outside the picu. she’s not operating today, you’re fairly certain, or at least hasn’t yet, based on her neat navy slacks and oatmeal-colored sweater under her white coat, chelsea boots certainly not what she would wear in the OR, her buzzed hair not hidden under one of her surgical caps, her wedding band still on her finger rather than tucked away, pinned to the inside of her scrubs. you’ve known her for years and years, have watched her fail and succeed and succeed and succeed, have watched her fall in love and get married, have watched her build a home, a life — which includes you, in all the ways that matter, in the ways you will very rarely thank each other for and feel anyway. 
but still, ‘dr. choi,’ you say, ‘thanks for coming.’
she nods. ‘it sounded like an interesting case from your summary.’ she takes the ipad you offer her and looks at the scans of tai’s heart, then her vitals, then the scans again, a little closer and with something like wonder filling her eyes, just at the corners but enough for you to feel a spark of hope in your chest. she looks up at you. ‘we can do this, i think.’
‘yeah?’
‘it’ll be —‘ she pauses, nods to reassure both of you, sets her shoulders, and you know that’s it — ‘it’ll be difficult, but it’s not impossible.’
‘agreed.’
‘can i meet her, then? the patient? i’d like to get an idea of how small this heart actually is.’ 
‘of course.’ you open the door and it’s just like any other consult; beatrice is always brave enough to partner up on any peds cases, even the most heartbreaking, the most hopeless. 
tai smiles at beatrice, who is always good with children the same way you are: you talk to them like human beings, and you listen, and you take things seriously — their pain and their fear and their recovery. tai is too little to tell you anything, but beatrice still leans toward her gently and smiles at her babbling, runs a gentle hand over her soft hair, makes sure to warm the head of her stethoscope up on her thigh before pressing it to tai’s chest. 
there’s no way for you to realize it at the time, but you will swear for years that you knew, even before beatrice and certainly before ava, that tai was special; beatrice closes her eyes and listens to tai’s failing heart carefully. ‘i’ll need an updated echo,’ she tells you and your intern, standing uselessly behind you. ‘and then, if you’re free afterward, dr. villambrosia, let’s meet in the skills lab? i’d like to run through the procedure.’
‘that works for me.’
she nods once, seriously. ‘no parents?’
you shake your head. ‘she’s here through my org, from chengdu.’
beatrice considers this briefly but soldiers on, like she and ava haven’t had quiet, sad fights about children and adoption and a family and a home. ‘if you feel comfortable, i can hand off my follow-ups this afternoon to dr. amunet and we can get this taken care of. it’ll be a long recovery, so i’d rather it not degrade any further if we wait.’
‘as long as the run-through feels good,’ you say, ‘i think it’s the best course of treatment.’
beatrice nods, smiles once down at tai and rubs her little chest while tai squirms and babbles happily. for such a sick kid — on oxygen and a feeding tube, two ivs because her veins are so small — she’s generally happy, bright in a way that peds usually isn’t. she’s not guaranteed to survive so, like all of your patients, you don’t get too attached. beatrice hasn’t had that problem before, either, caring but not too much, unlike ava, who feels each loss as if it’s his own. but the way that beatrice lingers and lets tai hold onto her fingers while she tells your intern exactly what she wants from the ekg and bloodwork — you think this might be different. 
/
it’s touch and go for a while: you and beatrice are brilliant surgeons but, even with all of the tests and scans and practice, tai’s surgery is longer and more difficult than you could’ve prepared for: her heart is weak and so, so small; even beatrice struggles to place the careful, clever sutures you’ve watched her throw with ease, most surgeries, and for years. it takes longer than you would’ve liked to get her off bypass, much longer than you would’ve liked for her heart to start beating again in beatrice’s hands. 
but: it does beat. weak and small, yes, but sure, and steady, and even, all the valves and ventricles ready to heal as they should be. tai’s cheeks, once she’s settled in the picu again, are rosy, her skin warm, her oxygen sats already up comfortably from before. you’d wired her sternum shut and the incision running down her tiny chest will leave a scar, and she’ll probably need another procedure or two as she gets older — but she will get older, as far as you can tell. 
beatrice goes through — a little unexpected for the aftermath of a successful surgery, and far beyond the end of her relatively easy scheduled shift — all of the potential complications tai could face, how she was without a flow of properly oxygenated blood to her brain for an amount of time that frustrated her — maybe even frightened her. for as long as you’ve known beatrice — dr. choi — through undergrad and medical school, then residency and fellowships, into your first few years as attendings, she’s as unflappable as they come, unless it’s someone she loves who might be hurt, who might not get well. you’ve seen it with ava and her back, and shannon and mary after a car accident that looked much worse than it actually was, and even one time camila got the flu. 
it surprises you in the moment when beatrice, carefully taking off her scrub cap — patterned with little otters and rainbows, a ridiculous gift from ava that beatrice horrifically wears with not a single ounce of hesitation or embarrassment — slips into her hospital-issued fleece quarterzip and sits down in the chair by tai’s bassinet once you and the nurses get all of her machines situated. 
‘i’ll stay with her, dr. villaumbrosia,’ beatrice says, soft and formal.
‘there’s plenty of nurses, and dr. amunet, if you want to go home.’
beatrice shakes her head and leans over tai’s sleeping form, heavily sedated for the next few days so she’s not in pain, and runs a gentle finger along her cheek. ‘she — she doesn’t have anyone,’ she says, as much explanation as you need. ‘plus, dr. silva is on call tonight anyway.’
you resist the urge to say something mean about ava; he’s actually very talented and smart and he makes your best friend, your sister, very happy, and very full — even if he is the most annoying person you know. tai is alone, and all beatrice has to go home to, right now, is a beautiful house that’s empty of all of the life ava brings anywhere, leftovers in the fridge, a house that you know has an empty bedroom just down the hall from the primary, holding a lot of ava’s patient, quiet hope in the space.
‘okay,’ you say, not bothering her, just this once: tai is very small and still very sick; you’ve read enough studies to know that comfort, especially with babies who haven’t known as much of it as they should, can be extremely monumental in their ability to heal. ‘i’m sure you can handle if anything pops up, but i’d like to know anyway. text me.’
beatrice looks up from tai to nod, a grim smile on her face mellowed, seemingly, by tai’s steady breaths against beatrice’s palm. ‘will do.’
you nod and don’t bother to ask for anything else from her, taking your leave while she takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes, then slumps a little in the chair but keeps her hand on tai’s stomach, soothing and warm and present. tai has been alone her entire life, even if it’s only been very short; you believe that her body will know that she’s not anymore, at least for now.
/
it’s not often that you choose to come to work early, not often that you allow yourself to have much attachment to patients and their outcomes beyond whether or not you practiced the best medicine possible — no one would be able to do peds and neonatal surgery if they did — but you park far before the sun comes up and force yourself to grab three cups of coffee from the cafe before you head to the picu.
it doesn’t surprise you when you see both beatrice and ava by tai’s bassinet now, beatrice fast asleep, slumped over fully on ava’s shoulder, and ava scrolling through an ipad, probably taking care of charting here rather than in her office. ava smiles up at you, never deterred by your grumbling or eye rolls, and, just this once, you smile back.
‘dr. silva,’ you greet. ‘how’s she doing?’ you ask, handing him the coffee.
‘totally steady all night,’ ava says quietly, sounding far too proud of a baby that isn’t even really beatrice’s patient, let alone theirs. ‘she’s really strong, even if she’s small.’
you look over tai’s vitals from the past night quickly and it’s true, she is getting better even faster than you could’ve hoped. ‘she is.’
ava smiles, then looks over at a fast asleep beatrice, a little aching. ’bea said she’s an orphan?’
you sit down next to them both and nod; you assume beatrice gave ava enough of the details. ‘we’ll work to place her with a good family once she’s recovered well.’ the warning is unspoken: don’t get too attached.
ava looks over at beatrice, who has spent the entire night asleep in the picu over a baby whose heart she massaged until it beat again in her hands. he nods. ‘yeah,’ he says, hopeful despite it all. ‘yeah.’
/
‘i — i can do it.’
‘dr. choi.’
‘no,’ beatrice says, ‘it’s fine. i’m on call tonight, and it’s good for her.’
it is, you both know it, but tai is healing and, if all goes according to plan, will be released in a week or two, hopefully to a family who’s equipped to care for her, to raise her gently and generously and well. beatrice — and ava, whenever they make up a very flimsy excuse — have been in tai’s room often, and you know they’ve grown attached even though you warned them not to. but beatrice taking her scrub top off and picking tai up gently, careful of her leads and her still-tender chest, and then holding her close and settling into a rocking chair. 
‘beatrice,’ you say, sitting down across from her. 
‘have you — has there been a family chosen?’
you’re not the one in charge of any of that, your contributions to the organization being both your sixth-generation-surgeon money and your sixth-generation-surgeon talent, but you know there hasn’t been a decision made yet. you shake your head. 
she nods. ‘we…’ she swallows, readjusts so tai is held even closer, her left ear close to beatrice’s heart. ‘i spoke with ava. a lot, actually. and, well, you obviously know i’m chinese; i can teach her how to speak mandarin and make mapo doufu and she won’t — she won’t miss that part. and ava knows about not having a family of origin, and he’s, like, the best. and,’ she continues, ‘we’re both surgeons. you know she’s going to need care now, but also her whole life, and i — i fixed her heart.’ she can’t even look at you, just looks at tai’s peaceful little face as her voice gets wobbly and she sniffles. 
beatrice, above all, means what she says. she’s maybe one of the least impulsive people you’ve ever met, agonizing for as long as you’ve known her over haircuts and new hiking gear and dinner reservations, as methodical as it comes when she practices medicine. 
‘i —‘ she looks at tai once more and then takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. ‘i love her.’
you know, more than anything, ava has made beatrice want to be brave. you let it sink in, let it hit you like a tidal wave of easy warmth, then really let yourself look at your oldest friend and every careful thing about her, lean muscles and long-healed scars, the most careful thing held against her chest — the same skin, bathed in the light of an easy sunrise. ‘well okay then.’
beatrice seems surprised, for a moment, as if you would say no, or doubt her, or discourage or argue. ‘really?’
you nod, brusque mostly so you don’t cry. ‘i’ll connect you with aja; she’ll be able to help you with all the paperwork. i’ll put in my recommendation, of course.’
beatrice adjusts tai so she can free a hand to wipe a few tears. ‘thank you, lilith.’
‘let’s just hope she takes after you, not ava.’
beatrice laughs, and it makes tai smile.
/
‘no.’
‘she’s —‘
‘your daughter,’ you say. ‘you’re not tai’s doctor any longer, haven’t been in months.’
beatrice frowns, arms crossed. ava smiles far too serenely for your liking next to her.
‘she’ll be fine, babe,’ she says. ‘it’s just a post-op, super normal.’ she turns toward tai, happily squealing at a nurse playing peak-a-boo with her while they get her situated on the exam table. 
beatrice glowers but concedes, softening immediately when ava squeezes her bicep. they’re both definitely exhausted but happier than you could’ve really imagined; the empty bedroom now filled with a plethora of toys and clothes, colorful animals on the walls, a safe crib with a space mobile you’d personally given them. it makes sense to you, easily, that they’re good parents — kind and attentive and funny — even if, right now, they’re driving you insane. they’re both in comfortable clothes, not bothering with anything more on their shared day off. 
you have to physically shoo beatrice away as you’re listening to tai’s heart, which is ridiculous because you’re sure beatrice does it at home, probably every night. you’re more relieved than you would ever let on that her heartbeat is normal and steady — perfect, as far as you’re concerned. you go through the rest of her check-up and she’s as healthy as can be, gaining weight well, rolling over, holding her head up, starting to eat baby food — yes to bananas; no to green beans so far — not sleep regressing as much as they’d feared. 
‘she’s doing great,’ you reassure. 
‘fuck yeah she is,’ ava says, then sighs. ‘before either of you start, first of all, language is all relative.’
‘ava, we can’t have her first word being f—‘
‘— secondly,’ ava interrupts, then looks at beatrice putting tai back into her dinosaur onesie, slipping a warm cap onto her head, ‘she’s the best baby of all time.’
‘she is wonderful,’ beatrice says, still a little reverent.
ava elbows you as beatrice carefully pulls socks onto tai’s feet. ‘one of the better ones i’ve met,’ you concede, because you really do love tai, and, all things considered, she’s an easy, happy baby. ‘certainly better than i thought would be possible with either of you.’
ava rolls her eyes. ‘i read your recommendation.’ horrifyingly, she starts reciting it, so you move as quickly as you can.
‘i have a tight schedule today,’ you interrupt, beatrice laughing quietly, smiling at both of you with far too much amusement.
‘bye lil,’ she says. ‘thanks for everything.’
‘yeah, yeah,’ you say, but there’s no bite to it. ‘see you at dinner.’
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bluerosefox · 1 year
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Teeny-Tiny Kitten
“I wish I had actual parents.”
“So you have wished it, so shall it be.”
Danielle “Ellie” Phantom makes a wish on a shooting star one night when close by Amity Park, not realizing Desiree was out for the night.
The next time she wakes up, she’s being picked up and a warm female voice asks
“Now, who on earth left this tiny and frankly adorable kitten out here. I need to have some words with them should I be bothered to find them.”
“Sel- Catwoman... That’s a baby not a stray kitten. You can’t keep her.” responded a deeper and graveled voice close by.
“Hush Mr. Serial Adopter. I know the moment I put her down you’re gonna whisk her off to that manor of yours and then hear on the news about a new Wayne next week. You have your birds, let me have this teeny-tiny kitten for myself.”   
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