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#talia al ghul fanfic

daydreamerwonderkid · 7 months

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Literally every "Talia Adopts Jason AU":

Bruce: YOU KIDNAPPED MY SON AND PUT HIM IN THE LAZARUS PIT-

Talia:

Ngl I do get a kick out of seeing this argument go down in this particular AU.

I also love how completely unapologetic Talia is every single fucking time. Shit's hysterical. I love it so much. She really just exudes "God forbid a woman do anything" energy and I love her for it.

#bruce wayne #talia al ghul #jason todd #talia adopts jason au #jason al ghul #batman shit post #batman shitpost #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #dreamer queue #post edited for better formatting cause that shit keeps me up at night

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starry-bi-sky · 17 days

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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

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avelnfear · 1 year

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This is a snippet that might someday make it into my fic.

“He’s the least dangerous one.” Jason snorted at Ra’s Al Ghul’s words. “He’s the civilian in a family of Bats.” Jason let out a short laugh, clamping his mouth shut as soon as he heard his voice. He was clearly struggling to hold in his laughter, but no one could deduce why. “By taking all of you first we have taken away his support, making it easy to deal with him.”

Anyone who knew Ra’s Al Ghul knew that he’d just told them that he’d captured the heroes and then ordered the death of a person they’d left behind. By the destroyed look on all but one of the heroes faces, this person would be dearly missed.

Jason tried to keep from laughing, he really did, but the combined looks of horror on his family’s faces and the smugness coming from a man who was so very wrong proved to be too much. He burst into laughter so hard that one might think he’d been hit with Joker’s Gas. The room’s occupants looked at him with varying levels of confusion, concern, and disbelief.

When his laughter didn’t dissipate for a long time, Ra’s became angry. “What do you find so funny? You’ve just been informed that your beloved will be killed, and you find that funny?” His tone was biting even in his clear confusion.

Abruptly, Jason stoped laughing. The change was so sudden that it was unnerving. Several people, captive or otherwise jolted with the jarring shift in attitude as all amusement had left Jason’s face.

“I don’t find it funny.” Jason leaned forward as much as the chains binding him would allow, locking eyes with Ra’s, his face deadly serious. “I find it fucking hilarious.” Jason waited until Ra’s opened his mouth to continue as everyone else watched in stunned silence. “You think he’s the normal one, the civilian in a group of heroes. You think he’s not very dangerous if dangerous at all. You think your assassins can do anything to him. You think he needs us for support. You think you’ll be able to kill him. You think you are safe. You think he’ll never be able to find you. You think you’ve won.” Jason’s voice was soft and quiet yet piercing. He leaned back, expression blank. “As for me? Of course I don’t find it funny. The sheer amount of things your wrong about it hilarious all on its own, without any context. I can’t fucking wait to see the look on your face when you find out just how wrong you are. You’ve fucked around, now it’s time to find out. Your brilliant fucking strategy is an absolute shit show because of misinformation. If I were you, I’d start praying, hoping that some god is willing to further piss off the one you call a civilian by protecting your sorry ass to the best of their ability. It might buy you an extra minute to exist.”

There was a massive thud from down the hall, coming from an impact that struck the whole structure. Jason tilted his head down, grin sharp and inhuman and eyes flashing green.

From down the hall was clearly heard, “Cucumber on a stick! I overshot!”

The other captives tensed, that was Danny! What was he doing here? How was he here?

The assassins in the room tensed. That voice belonged to the civilian lover Red Hood was just ranting about. How was he here? How was he still alive?

Ra’s felt something odd swell in his chest, tightening his muscles and making his heart race. He knew it was a civilian on the other side of the door, he knew it. There was nothing special about Danny Nightingale except that he’d changed his name from Daniel Fenton. Then why, why, did Ra’s suddenly feel like prey that had wandered into the path of a predator?

#dp x dc fanfic #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #jason todd x danny fenton #jason todd #written on my phone #ra’s al ghul #batpham #rough draft #Ra’s fucked up #he’s going to learn just how bad #ghost king danny #my fic that is being written #Damian is being held in a different place by Talia #the reason that is important is a secret but I still wanted to point it out #i should sleep #sorry if formatting is off #ttac(wygiaf)

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bugss-reid · 2 months

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Bro imagine if like Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne bond over having evil grandfathers together. Maybe that’s why their so close, but like imagine one of them is like “Did your grandfather ever try to make you his successor to his evil cult of assassins” AND THE OTHER ONE GOES “you will never believe this but-“

#nightwing #batman #dc comics #dick grayson #damian wayne #dc #fanfic #talon dick grayson #ra’s al ghul #talia al ghul #league of assassins #court of owls #oswald cobblepot

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devine-fem · 11 days

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I don’t think ya’ll realize that Damian’s family is not the batfam and before batfam stans freak the hell out, let me explain. His mother will always be Talia, his father is Bruce, his auntie is Nyssa and his grandfather is Ra’s Al Ghul. Plus, he has a brother on his mom’s side of the family.

You guys are way too into erasing the al ghuls way too much for me to be comfortable about it. Like yes, demonize the poc ccharacters and pull Damian into the white man’s club that is the batfam right now.

Like you guys are sooo more into talking about his legless relationship with Tim Drake then you are with Ra’s Al Ghul.

And before you get all “adopted families are just as important as blood families,” I know. But Damian is. not. adopted. You can enjoy batfam fanon but don’t demonize the Al Ghuls for a white man to take the spot where his other brother should be.

So much time could be spent healing their relationship in canon and repairing the character assassination they experienced in the writers room but noooo, let’s keep defending Tim Drake and thinking one hug can wave away every horrible things he did to Damian.

This includes Bruce by the way, like you’d rather replace Bruce with Dick, Talia with Selina, Respawn with Tim and Nyssa with Kate and that doesn’t come off a lil odd to you…?

It’s really just coming off a little racist with someone of you at this point but let me not get into that.

Bonus:

Look at them be soft. It’s good for the skin.

#still thinking about that fanfic where talia stole damian out of selina’s freaking womb #damian wayne #dc comics #scared to post this one LMAO #batfam #bruce wayne #talia al ghul #ra’s al ghul #al ghul family

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jcryptid · 2 months

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Did i impulsively spend weeks on rendering after getting hooked on a Batfam fic? Yes.... Yes I did.

for real though guys, the author of this fic is an absolute angel. So... @lulurythmea: Happy Birthday.... thanks for making me cry and go feral.... can't wait to see what the hell you do next you crazy son of a bitch ;)

the fic in question is Across the Sands on Ao3, go check it out if you also want to go feral and get some of that sweet sweet hurt comfort!

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1-8oo-wtfbro · 11 months

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idea for a fic: Jason loses his memory after the pit, right, and instead of training him like she did, Talia sees a opportunity. She wants them both (her two sons, Jason and Damian) to live normal lives, so she send them to Gotham, with Jason under the impression that he’s just a normal guy who’s raising his little brother. Sure he still has like, training, but he doesn’t know it.

no, he’s always had super good reflexes ma’am, here’s the cup that u were ab to drop. No, he doesn’t really work out a lot, but he can totally help with those he groceries.

Damian, of course, is rlly young, but still has some training (Jason is always taking the knives from him, and telling him not to ‘play’ with them), and does his best to ‘protect’ his big brother.

and coincidentally, Jason gets a great job

At. Wayne. Enterprises.

#fic idea #fan fic writing #fan fic stuff #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #jason todd #baby damian wayne #damian wayne dc #dc #damian al ghul #wayne #funny #crack fanfic #crack fic #good mom talia #talia al ghul #she’s the best #jason todd dc

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ruesyblues · 2 years

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Damian doesn’t like fish.

He tolerates the meat that is served at the manor most nights, even though it sits heavily and unpleasantly in his stomach. He puts up with Shepherd’s pie and spaghetti bolognaise and pork ribs, because the others seem to love it, singing praises for Alfred’s cooking every night, and Damian doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, or unusual, or out of place.

Then one night Alfred makes steamed fish, cooked in lemongrass and ginger, drizzled with soy sauce.

“I’ve noticed you don’t exactly enjoy our usual meals,” he says, and before Damian can protest, continues, “I looked up this recipe for you, I hope you’ll like it.”

Damian doesn’t like fish.

“Thank you,” he says, and then eats every bite. Alfred seems genuinely pleased and it fills him with warmth, which makes up for the way his stomach curled at the unpleasant texture.

Damian learnt to cook at a young age.

He was always busy, with lessons and training, his grandfather always pushing him to do more, to do better. Sometimes in the evening, however, he would follow his mother to the kitchen, where she would chop onions, fry spices in oil, and roll out rotis, getting flour in her pinned-back hair.

“Why do you cook?” he asked her, “You don’t have to.”

His mother laughed. “I like to,” she said, “Do you want to try rolling the roti?”

His first attempt came out uneven and oddly pentagonal, nothing like the perfect circles his mother made. She still ate it, and told him that it was the best roti she’d ever had.

Damian learnt to cook at a young age.

He also learnt that love was when someone made you a food you didn’t like and you ate it anyways and loved it, because you loved them.

His mother came back from Delhi once and brought him jalebis. “They were your favourite when you were younger,” she said.

Damian was eight now, and didn’t like the heavy, syrupy sweetness of jalebis anymore. But his mother was holding the gold-patterned box that she’d brought just for him, her hand resting gently in his hair, and he could feel a warmth rising up inside him, feeling like it would choke him if it got too big. He would have eaten a thousand jalebis to feel like this all the time.

Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.

“Sorry I’m late, Alfred,” Richard says breathlessly. “I brought ice cream?”

Damian doesn’t hear Alfred’s reply, but it makes Richard laugh. There are footsteps, and then Richard enters the living room where they’ve all gathered, looking wind-blown and ruffled but delighted to see all his siblings together. Damian knows how rare it is for all of them to gather in the manor, and he appreciates the opportunity to spend time with his family.

“What kind of ice cream did you get?” Drake asks.

“Mint chocolate chip,” Richard replies, and there’s a general cheer of appreciation through the room.

“My favourite,” Stephanie declares.

Richard grins, and comes around the sofa to give her a hug from behind. “That’s why I got it.”

Damian hates mint chocolate chip. He’d told Richard that once, when they were up on a rooftop after a night of patrol, expressing his disgust for the mismatched flavours at great length while Richard laughed. “How could anyone hate mint chocolate chip?” he’d asked with an exaggerated gasp of offence, but he’d seemed amused.

Damian loves Richard more than he’s loved anyone in his life. If Richard brings him mint chocolate chip ice cream, then Damian will love it too.

Alfred comes into the room with a tray laden with bowls, each filled with that brown-speckled green concoction. Damian waits for his, but when Alfred reaches him, he unearths a bowl of vanilla and hands that to Damian instead.

Damian stares at it. He’s so surprised that he barely remembers to thank Alfred.

“I got vanilla for you,” Richard tells him, as he settles into the couch next to him with a contented sigh. He grins. “I remember how much you hate mint chocolate chip.”

Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.

He knows the way Richard’s arm curls around his shoulders, however, and the way his grip tightens slightly as Damian leans into him, watching the others bicker over what movie they’re watching. Damian eats his vanilla ice cream, that Richard got specifically for him, and feels that familiar warmth.

It feels like love.

#damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #talia al ghul #alfred pennyworth #headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #dc #batman #bat family #batfam #dick and damian #rue's queues

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Part 12 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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A Mother's Care

Damian knew his family. He had been with all of his siblings long enough to have taken note of all their small habits or antics. But it wasn't only his siblings. He had also learned about his father and Pennyworth. Thus he knew that his father, after learning about Danyal's existence, would attempt to find a way to contact his mother and find out as much as he could about Danyal's live before them.

Damian also knew his mother. Father had contacted her, that alone would have been enough reason for his mother to appear herself sooner or later. Especially since it had been about Danyal. His twin had become a non-existing topic in the league after his death. His mother had never mentioned his twin ever again, it was like Danyal had never existed in the first place. Back then it had irked him but blinded by the way he had been raised then he had followed that unspoken rule. Never talked about and never thought about him during training or missions, never mentioned him to anyone. But in the privacy of his own chambers he would remember and whisper stories to small and hidden animals he had saved about his twin.

That was why he wasn't surprised, unlike Richard who he was supposed to patrol with, when his mother stepped out of the shadows of a building. Now they were free to talk about Danyal again after so many years.

Still he tensed, there were so many things he wanted to tell her after Danyal appeared. So many questions to which he had no answers to. Yet he didn't make a single sound as he became aware of her presence, stopping and merely looking over his shoulder as she stepped into clear view.

Richard was a different matter. He instantly took a protective stance. Placing himself between Damian and her, an arm outstretched as if to prevent Damian from getting closer in case he felt 'stabby' as his brothers liked to put it or perhaps more so to keep her from approaching him. Richiard did tend to become protective at times. Something that Damian hadn't known how to appreciate at first but still understood in a way.

"Habibi."

"Mother."

"Talia."

They were all curt with each other it seemed and Damian simply nodded in her direction. He knew why she was here, for a split second he wondered how far his father was from their location and if Richard had already contacted them. Their coms were on and active, he could hear Drake having an argument with Brown over something trivial. He had muted his own and it did seem like they were unaware of his mothers presence. He side eyed his brother, wondering if he had used a private channel, so as not to alarm everyone of his mothers presence. Even if Nightwing hadn't, Damian was sure that Oracle had already noticed and most likely had notified his father.

"Your father has contacted me."

"We had questions."

Nightwing's head moved minisculely as he looked between Damian and his mother, silently asking if Damian was fine with this. He gave a small nod, inclining his head slightly to indicate that he wanted to take the lead. It was strange, something was off. His mother smiled but it wasn't that knowing smile she would have if she had done something that would make them want to contact her. Rather he caught the small signs of her slight confusion. A change in her voice, the small lift of her eyebrow and the hints of a frown.

She was worried.

"Habibi, what questions do you still have?"

"Why did you never tell me he was still alive?"

In a way Damian was glad that Richard was leaving the talking to him and only kept his protective stance. It was also unusual for his mother to seek him out when he was with someone. He could see a weariness to the way her stance changed slightly and turned to look into the distance.

"Danyal was weak and a weakness to you. He would have never survived. If anyone had known he was still alive he would have just died a second time."

Damian clenched his fists under his cape. That was not enough reason for him, yet he understood the reasoning. He had been raised by the league for the bigger part of his childhood, he knew their views best and had only later learned how wrong some of them were. If he hadn't been sent to his father and grown with his brothers, would he have accepted that reasoning better?

"Why didn't you say anything after I left?"

His eyes widened slightly under his mask as he saw the smile his mother was giving him as she turned to face him again. Fondness clearly showed in her eyes, a smile he hadn't seen since his twin and him had been small children. It was a smile that had disappeared with time when their grandfather had instructed them to start with the twins training. "Danyal was weak but smart."

Silence followed her statement and he mused over her words, glaring at the ground as he did so. Of course his twin was smart, the only fault Danyal ever openly displayed was his inability to kill.

"My baby bird." He looked up at his mother as she broke the silence. "Danyal changed after his revival but even then, I had faith. Besides I knew from the moment I lowered him into the Pits that you would one day find him again. Nothing truly stays a secret forever."

"So why didn't you bring him to Bruce then?" His head snapped to Nightwing, for a moment he had forgotten about his elder brother's presence and it appeared that his brother's question would not get answered. Damian watched as she shook her head and stepped back. They would not receive an answer to this question.

"What about Danyal's scars, the ones he hadn't possessed before?" The question slipped out before he could stop it. It was irrational to ask his mother of this yet he hoped to get an answer. In accordance with what his father had told them before. It hadn't been league experimentation that gave his twin new scares. Yet his father had mentioned that his mother had also kept an eye on Danyal from time to time.

Surely she must at least know something about them. Her facial expression hardened and Damians eyes winded minisculely when he saw the meaning behind it. His mother's gaze grew distant as she took another step back from them, slowly merging into the shadows behind her.

"Danyal has gained his own share of enemies in the years away, despite living a mostly normal life. Your brother has even gained a special kind of enemies in the past two years. Do keep an eye out for those suited in white, Habibi. But teal and orange are the ones responsible."

Eyes widening Damian stepped forward, a hand slightly raised to reach out. But Richard's arm prevented him from getting any further as his mother disappeared into the shadows. Distantly he registered how Richard was talking over the coms, relaying what his mother came to personally inform them about. His brother's stance had gone rigid at his mothers last words. His brother must have known what his mother was implying.

It took him a moment but once he composed himself again he attempted to reflect on their conversation.

As he regrouped with the rest of his family, belatedly Damian realized that his mother had not once asked how his twin was fairing or in what state he was in. Instead she had given him a warning. A warning he was going to take seriously. Those suited in white, teal and orange. There must be some information his father had yet to share with the rest of them that Damian would need to dig into. As he eyed his elder brother Damian wondered if he should dig into the information himself or see how much he could get out of Richard before he attempted to question his father. There was something about Danyal's life that his mother, father and eldest brother knew but refrained from directly sharing with him.

His mother did indeed care about him and his brother, her way of showing it was just not the most ideal, at least not in his siblings eyes.

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aviolettrose · 11 days

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A fanfic idea:

Jason gets triggered by certain words into a soldier the league trained, and Damian tries to figure out if Jason is ظل(zala = shadow, translated by google) his "babysitter" and bodyguard from his childhood.

There is a situation where Damian has to battle someone and is forced to use a single weapon. After thinking about his odds, he chose ظل, because either he is right or wrong (of course, he is right)

Jason is frozen in his spot when Damian starts to say something in arabic. "عليك أن تخدم وتحمي رأس الشيطان. يجب أن تأخذ أنفاسك الأخيرة أثناء حمايتي. أنت جنديي الذي سوف يستمع وينفذ أوامري"

("You shall serve and protect the demon head. Your last breath shall be taken while protecting me. You're my soldier, who will listen and act to my orders", translated by google again).

After Damian finishes, you can see how his opponent just stands there and laughs until blood starts to run out of his mouth because he has a katana sticking out of his stomach. He spits blood and dies and bla bla bla, irrelevant.

The opponent falls to the ground and reveals Jason standing there, looking catatonic, no shine in his eyes, and Damian knew he was right.

However, he doesn't know how to "end" Jasons "soldiers' mode," which causes chaos afterward.

Damian is in school, he will see Jason sitting in a three in a league uniform (Jon is freaked out by it)

Damian is on a mission with the Titans? Well, he ain't going alone

However, Jason freaks everyone out, even his family. It seems like he doesn't need anything except training and Damians' presence.

Jason cooked a feast once, only for Damian, and when Tim tries to take something, he almost loses a hand (Jason did it only for a thread, if he wanted to he would have cut Tim's hand off).

It frustrates Damian so much after a while that he asks Bruce if his mother could come over (of course, Bruce says yes because he wants his son back).

When Talia arrives and she sees the state Jason is in, she talks with Jason on Arabic about "his state".

(Like, "Who are you?" "Your Soldier, my queen", "Who told you to protect Your Prince?" "My Prince himself requested my protection")

And of course, Talia gets Jason to snap out somehow (he pretends to have no memories about this time, but he knows everything).

(I didn't think further, but if you have any ideas, please let me know)

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ghost-bxrd · 5 months

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Was rereading What you're looking for (you claim to abhor) and I just realized I'm a little confused on whether Jason is aware that Damian is Bruce's kid or not? Does he just think Talia had a child with someone and ended up bonding with Damian, hence he has a little brother? Or is he aware that Talia has been hiding Damian from Bruce and is too preoccupied with the whole "my family thinks i'm my own boyfriend" mess that the thought of mentioning Damian just hasn't come up?

Yes Jason is aware!

Talia never kept it a secret from him. When she took Jason in after some League operatives found him wandering around Gotham following his resurrection she only waited long enough to ascertain that he wouldn’t pose a threat to a vulnerable kid before introducing them to each other.

Jason was still mostly catatonic at the time so his memories of meeting Damian for the first time are a bit foggy, but after he was submerged in the Pit and Talia caught him up on everything she also informed him of Dami’s lineage.

Jason’s wasn’t really intent on spending time with Damian for a while after that (mostly because he didn’t remember his time before the Pit at all for a few months yet and partly because… well, he was afraid that someone looking like Bruce might trigger the Pit rage).

Damian, true to fashion, stayed away from Jason for a solid two days before he snuck away from the heavily protected Al Ghul quarters and marched through Nanda Parbat all by himself to find his self proclaimed brother.

Jason was both appalled and impressed when he found the kid fighting off two would-be assassins just outside his room. (Talia was mildly miffed that the assassins were already dead by the time she caught up to Damian)

Damian and Jason frequently trained together after that, a lot of times even with Talia personally when she wasn’t yet convinced Jason would be capable of protecting both himself and Damian from tutors who would wish them harm.

Soon the two became virtually inseparable and Jason got promoted quickly first to Damian’s personal bodyguard, then to General of the Shadows and eventually got officially adopted by Talia al Ghul in a ceremony where Ra’s also gave his consent.

Oh wow ok that got off topic real quick I’m so sorry. I’ll just leave this here anyway.

But to answer the last question: 50/50

On one hand Jason is pretty preoccupied with the whole Gotham Drama, on the other hand he never had any intention to tell Bruce about Damian in the first place. As far as he’s concerned, Damian is way better off in the safety of Nanda Parbat with a kickass mom and a homicidal grandad, far, FAR away from Bruce’s crusade and his tendency to put kids in suits.

I hope that answers it 💚💚💚

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spacedace · 1 year

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Does anyone else have the thing where they just end up trying to pack The Most ™️ into a fic? Like, I have an initial, simple premise, then my brain is like, hey remember all these other things? Let's squash em in there, they fit.

And like, I can make them fit, but at what point is it too much? At what point is there no more room for things to make sense?

Take for example my Gotham's Favorite Psychiatrist Jazz AU, it started simple with the idea "hey what if Jazz said fuck Arkham and tried to work directly with the rogues and gave the Batfam a crisis in the process?" Then it expanded to include some fun BatPham chaos and shenanigans (see the disaster dinner snippets lol) and now I'm working on trying to fit in such bangers as:

- Dan adopts feral gremlin Billy after the kid tries to steal his wallet and is a supportive dad to his magic vigilante son

- Danny decides to Be Gay and Do Crimes by tracking down Catwoman and asking her to teach him how to be a cat burglar (without using his powers, because he's trying to challenge himself) to pull off some Robin Hood shit

- Elle and Talia's adventures of trying to save Damian from Ras without alerting him to the fact that Ras is up to shit because they both just want him to not have to deal with that shit

And like, half a dozen other smaller things on top of that that I want to incorporate, but like at what point is it too much? At what point do I atop trying to shove it all in one bag and instead break it down into smaller stuff? Like all of the above could be their own stories (and literally everything I post is up for being used as writing prompts, yall are fantastic and I'd love to read everything yall wrote using those ideas) so should I just make them their own or just keep trying to fold it all in to one thing?

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dceuheadcanons · 3 months

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I'm entirely failing College and yes I should be focusing on that BUT!! I have another fic idea. One based off of my maladaptive daydreams, specifically. Mafia boss/club owner/crime lord & street kid Bruce Wayne AU. Based mainly around the The Batman 2022 and Gotham (series) timelines, along with Telltale Batman, with my own elements mixed in of course.

Selina gave him the Bat nickname, to conceal his real identity as a street kid. How did he become a street kid? Wayne Enterprises execs stealing all of his money and his house. Alfred tried to help, but he couldn't do anything about it and Bruce ended up on the streets.

It's sort of if Bruce was Jason, I guess. He adapted to the streets quickly, and at age 22 he started to take revenge on people. Before that, he had actually been actively asked by The League of Assassins to train with them. They wanted someone as vengeful and willing to do anything to survive as him on their side. Unfortunately.. he didn't really like how strict they were. He killed Ra's and allowed Talia to become the leader, returning to Gotham after.

He still adopts most of his kids! Not officially, but he uses his club to help people out. Shelter people that need it, feed people that need food, etc.

So!! Hopefully I actually finish the fic considering.. College. But hopefully my bad luck as of late means I actually do it.. the ao3 author life has found me lmao.. And yes I did write all of this in a class.

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jaxon-exe · 10 months

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Dp x dc prompt (I have a lot of these ok T~T I can’t stop thinking of them)

Danny and Damian are the same person.

The same way that Maddie and Talia are the same.

Or Jack and Bruce.

Or Jazz and the unnamed baby that was Bruce and Talia’s first born and first lost.

They r the same person but just different versions, from different worlds, that have different stories but at the end of the day they r the same. So when Ra’s al ghul found himself in need of a new heir after his grandson join his father he knew just where to turn. An old spell that would bring to him exactly what he needed. A new grandson, a new Damian al ghul. This one however would be better. Stronger, faster, everything Damian was supposed to be. He was going to use the ancient spell to summon the most powerful version of his grandson. It was the perfect plan.

The only thing he didn’t take into consideration was the possibility of this more powerful version of his grandson to be even more of a hero than the first one!!

#dc x dp fic #dc x dp memes #dp x dc fanfic #damian wayne #danny phenton #danny fenton #ra’s al ghul #Danny being a little shit #he’s gonna make Ra’s life a living hell #he’s also gonna give Bruce a heart attack #Bruce be like- oh god talia hid another one from me #Damian denying that Danny is him bc- look at this heathen!! he is not me!! he can’t even use a katana!!!

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empressgeekt · 5 months

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headcanon - batman spawn growled as babies

made on mobile. Apologies in advance.

Okay, so I was watching cute baby clips on YouTube to make me laugh after a bad day. And I came to this clip with this cutest baby girl who growled at her brother when ever he made her upset instead of crying.

Now all I can think of is a baby damian growling at Talia, and here just being weirded out. Like "great he's trying to learn intimidation tactics young" but on the other hand he's too cute and helpless for it to really work they way damian wanted it too. Even Ra's was confused the first time Damian did it to him and it took a lot to stun the demon's head. The Al Guals had ni idea where this came from, and just chuck it up to damian being damian. Besides the boy grows out of it quickly.

The Helena does the same thing years later, and Damian remembers his mother mentioning that he did that. Then Alfred walks in and says that Bruce did the same thing as an infant. Selina finds the whole thing hilarious.

Even further in the future Warren and Mary mcginnis would wonder why their sons were so insistent that they were wild animals as babies.