Latest Posts by aro-in-danyl - Page 6

I want a superhero movie where the hero dies in the first ten minutes and the woman who was supposed to be the love interest puts on his costume and becomes an even better hero.

Harry uses AK 4 times and becomes haunted by a young Tom Riddle

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My wife and I were walking around the city and when we saw a dumbledore poster we immediately turned to each other and made this hand gesture LOL

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

Clone^2 by @starry-bi-sky !! Danny and Damian are the siblings ever

They are the worst to eachother /pos

(Hope you don’t mind the tag starry :p)

Tucker's mom invites him to Take Your Son to Work Day

So! Tucker hasn't talked to his mom in a little while, he usually stays with his Dad and Step-Mom in Amity, but every once in a while he'll go over to Washington DC to visit his Bio Mom.

And she recently just called him to ask if he wanted to visit the White House on Bring your Child to Work Day. She works there as the Secretary of Defense, and he is actually really interested in what she does for work.

So, he get picked up and taken to Washington, where he meets up with his Mom.

Amanda Waller.

...

For the record, Amanda Waller knows she's not a good person, and Definitely not a Good Mom. But she thinks she is at least semi-decent, look, she even invited her son to Bring Your Child To Work Day!

And look how much fun he is having running around the Argus Labs! She knew he was a Tech Geek, but he is really getting into it.

Right now he's looking at their Confiscated Alien Tech, and the smile on his face is actually making Amanda feel a little happy. Oh, what's he doing now? What's he doing with the Coffee Maker? Why is he taking that Screwdriver from that Toolbo-

What is he doing with the Alien Tech?!

She rushes over to stop him, but stops dead in her tracks when she sees what he did. Somehow, he had just taken a Busted Alien Cooling Unit, took some parts from the Coffee Maker, and turned it into a Freeze Ray.

"Oh, sorry Mom. Do you want me to put it back the way it was?"

"...do you want a Job?"

"...I'm 14."

*slams the door open* I am? Once again a GENIUS!

Give that Witchboy a baby!

Klarion! Lord of Chaos, good looking young man of FABULOUS hairstyles, partner in crime of the MAGNIFICENT Teekle... is? In a bit of a pickle. Tiny bit of a problem. Itty, bitty, theoretically possible touch of a CONCERN, if you will. Might even have done goofed.

See, and he knows this is out of character for him, he THOUGHT? It would be funny? To play a... a LITTLE, tiiiiny, harmless bitty joke on the Lord of Time. Ha ha... funny right? We're all joking around~! H-having a LAUGH?

....please don't unwind me into unexistence! We're too hilarious and gorgeous to die!

You wouldn't kill a kid with a cat, would you!?

And, yeah, maybe he and Teekle start monologing. Dramatically lamenting how Teekles care routine is going to RUINED and they are going to DIE, how no one can take a JOKE, trying to bargin their way out of their impending demise. Etc etc. But?

Then? The Lord Of Time muses that Teekle IS very well cared for? And?

Look, buddy, kill him or don't kill him! You're not gonna get Teekle! Keep your filthy cat molesting hands to yourself! No one touches his baby!

That's apparently the "right answer".

He suddenly has a God Toddler in his other arm, cradled against his chest, right next to Teekle. W-What? The Price(TM) for Sparing His Life(TM) is raising and protecting his... WAIT, WHAT!?

Klarion become a Teen Dad. Teekle become a Cat Parent. Both are baffled and highly alarmed. What has happen to their eternal Hot Chaos Summer!? Fast cars and the country side filled with frogs that are on fire? Milk shakes and rattlesnakes down peoples shirts?

Parenthood?!?! This is going to RUIN ALL THEIR FUN PLANS!

..........or......or IS it? Teekle, hear him out, what if? We take the glow potato? WITH us? It's a baby! They don't do much. Probably good enrichment or something! Yeah! We'll get one of those baby carriers and just? Rain on the Justice Dorks parade, WITH A BABY! That's EXTRA embarrassing for them!

We could have matching outfits!

Nevermind! I saved it! Teekle, we're geniuses. Let's go rob some baby stores! Come on, Jr.! Time to learn Daddy's favorite past time! CHAOS.

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

DPXDC prompt: Identity Reveal or What makes a Fenton a Fenton?

Riddler catches 'birds and bats' and Phantom. Disarming them and putting Specter Deflector on Danny Nygma offers to pass his obstacle course if they want to live.

However, he does not take into account one fact - Danny not only Phantom but also Fenton. And his family is well known in Amity Park for their strong genes and attendant economic damage. So of course the boy does not follow his rules of the game but simply runs away:

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.

Zuko attends Izumi's career day at school and everyone in the class is like! The firelord is coming to our school! And the teacher has the class prepare all these questions about governing and politics. And Zuko shows up in an apron and teaches the class how to make tea.

some storyboarding techniques as a sequel to my storyboarding basics presentation. I focus specifically on tips for action and conversation scenes!

as always, these are general tips and tricks, but rules can always be broken. happy boarding! ✍️✨

During the most poor and homeless period of my life, I had a lot of people get angry with me because I spent $25 on Bath and Body Works candles during a sale. They couldn’t comprehend why the hell I would do that when I had been fighting for months to try and get us on our feet, afford food, and have an apartment to live in.

Those candles were placed beside wherever I slept that night. In the morning, I would move them and set them wherever I’d have to hang out. At one point I carried one around in my purse - one of those big honking 3-wick candles. I never lit them, but I’d open them and smell them a lot.

I credit that purchase with a lot of my drive that got me to where I am today. I had been working tirelessly, 15+ hour days with barely any reward, constantly on the phone or trying to deal with organizations and associations to “get help at”. It’d gone on for almost a year by the end of it, and I was so burnt out, to the point that I would shake 24/7. But I could get a bit of relief from my 3-wick “upper middle class lifestyle” candles. They represented my future goals, my home I wanted to decorate, and how I would one day not be in this mess anymore.

When we moved into the apartment, and our financial status improved, I burned those candles every single day. When they were empty, I cleaned them out, stuck labels on them, and they became the starting point of my really cute organization system I had ALWAYS planned to have.

So whenever I hear about someone very poor getting themselves a treat - maybe it’s Starbucks, maybe it’s a home deco item, maybe it’s a video game… I don’t judge them. I get it. I get that you can’t go without anything for that long without it making you go crazy. You need to pull some joy, inspiration, and motivation from somewhere.

Bothersome Bonds (DP x DC)

For @ghostbsuter for the BatPham secret santa exchange, with an illustration also by me. (Posting here on tumblr late since it was supposed to be anonymous for a little while)

You can also read it on AO3

[No applicable warnings]

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time Jason had woken up on a cold, concrete floor with no idea how he'd gotten there. He didn't exactly keep count of specific bullshit like that, but if he were to hazard a guess, he'd say it was probably the fourth or fifth time at least. And it was always concerning.

His joints groaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He'd slept in worse places, but a concrete floor made for a less than ideal bed, to put it lightly, and his back was killing him. The soreness in his body was the first thing he noticed as he started to take stock of the situation.

The second thing Jason noticed was a heavy cuff around his left wrist—one half of a pair of strange-looking handcuffs that didn't appear to have any sort of lock or even hinge to open them. The other half of the handcuffs was attached to... he didn't really know.

Well, no. He knew that it was a young man—probably about the same age as Jason himself, close to six feet tall, if not a few inches taller, but built like a beanpole, with messy black hair—still unconscious. What Jason didn't know was who exactly this random-ass dude was, or why they were handcuffed together. 

Or where they were. 

Or... how they'd ended up there.

Come to think of it, the last thing Jason remembered was stepping out of his apartment to do his rounds of Crime Alley around 9pm. He wasn't wearing his Red Hood uniform now, though, and when he felt around his body, he discovered that all his weapons were gone, even the little ones he kept hidden in his civvies. 

His wristwatch showed 1:55, and it was still ticking, which meant it had been at least five hours since then, unless someone had messed with it for some reason. He had a strong sense that it had been a lot longer, but no memory of any of the time that had passed.

No matter how much he concentrated, or tried to dig up the memories of what series of events had led him to this situation, he kept coming up blank. Heat started to build in his chest as frustration rose, but for some reason it felt... different, compared to the kind of anger he was used to, quieter, almost muted, and less overwhelming. 

He shrugged it off and tried to examine the room he was currently in.

It was basically a big cement box. The walls and floors were covered in water stains and scrape marks. The way the floor sloped suggested this place was at least partially underground, but there were windows along one wall near the ten foot ceiling, so it wasn't completely subterranean.

Jason guessed this place was probably some kind of cell, maybe even an interrogation room... maybe even a torture room. But there were no chains hanging from the ceiling, or rack of weapons, or anything. It was empty except for himself and the unconscious stranger next to him. For now.

The one thing Jason didn't see, though he twisted around and craned his neck looking for one, was a door.

The guy he was handcuffed to stirred, and Jason waited for him to wake up, but instead, he just rolled over, tugging on the handcuffs and pulling Jason closer to him in the process, and kept on sleeping. 

Great. Real helpful.

Jason rolled his eyes and fished around in his pocket for any kind of tool that might help him get out of these cuffs. He didn't find anything.

Even if he had, there was no lock to pick. No keypad to try and guess a combination. Not even a chain to try and break with brute strength. The cuffs were held together with a glowing green cord that didn't even strain in the slightest when Jason tried as hard as he could to break it. Since he didn't know what it was made of, he didn't know what signs of strain would even look like.

He looked down at the softly snoring guy beside him. He was actually pretty nice-looking. His skin was smooth, if pale, his jawline sharp, his nose strong, his ears slightly pointed, a bit like an elf. Looking closely, though, the guy had some serious eye-bags. Jason wouldn't be surprised if this was the most sleep he'd gotten in weeks. Too bad he was the only one Jason could ask about this situation.

"Hey!" Jason shouted, roughly shaking him by the shoulders. "Wake up sleeping beauty!"

"Aww, you think I'm beautiful?" mumbled the guy, still clearly half-asleep, even as he wriggled up into a sitting position with a wide yawn that revealed sharper-than-normal canines. 

"Are you familiar with a little thing called sarcasm?" Jason said, despite the fact that he had literally just been thinking about how attractive this guy was. He didn't need to know that, whoever he was.

"Too familiar, if you ask my sister." Ice-blue eyes blinked open and fixed Jason with a blank look. "Who're you?" Those eyes widened and looked around, taking in their surroundings for the first time with shock. "Where is this?"

"I dunno," Jason said. "I was hoping you would."

"That I would know what?" the other asked. "Who you are or where this is? Do you not remember your name? I remember mine. It's Danny."

"I'm Jason," he said. "Obviously, I meant the second thing." 

God, Jason took back everything he thought about his looks, this dude was already annoying enough to cancel them out.

"So does that mean you don't know where we are either? Do you know how we got here? Did we get kidnapped or something? The last thing I remember is leaving work and after that... I got nothing."

"God, shut up," Jason growled. "I regret waking you up already."

"These are kinda like Skulker's," the stranger said, ignoring Jason and examining the shackles that tied the two of them together. He laughed. "Man, I'm kinda gettin' déjà vu. You wouldn't happen to secretly be a heavily armed vigilante with a red costume hellbent on destroying me, would you?"

Jason froze. "What?" he demanded.

The response was a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Don't worry about it—private joke."

Jason dragged a hand down his face with a groan. "Why couldn't I have woken up handcuffed to fuckin', I don't know, Roy or something instead of an obnoxious total stranger."

"Again, Danny. We've met already."

"When?"

"Like two minutes ago," Danny said, brows furrowing in frustration. "Nice to know you were paying attention, Jason. See, I remember your name."

"Whatever," Jason said gruffly, rising to his feet, and ignoring the way Danny winced as he got dragged up after him. "We need to find a way out of here."

"Worked that out all by yourself, Sherlock?" Danny scoffed, twisting the shackle around his right wrist to give them both a little more space. 

Now that they were both standing, Jason could see that Danny was a good three inches taller than him, and his irritation towards him grew. 

"I don't think we're gonna get outta these cuffs without a key-card or a saw," Danny said.

"Key card?"

"I mean, I assume." He shrugged. "No keyhole, no number pad, no fancy lock, just a flat metal surface and an EPC cord."

"What's an EPC cord?"

"Don't worry about it," Danny said again, and Jason sneered.

"Fine," he said. "Let's start with getting out of this room. I don't see any doors, do you?"

"No, but there could be secret passages or something." Danny looked around again, remarkably unconcerned by this whole situation, for a civilian. "I see windows. They're kinda high up, but if we can get to them somehow, maybe they're big enough for us to get through."

"At the very least, if we can see out, we might get a better idea of where we are."

With minimal tugging on the shackles that bound them together, the two of them walked over to the wall. The windows were much too high for either of them to reach alone.

"Get on my shoulders," Jason commanded.

"Uh... are you sure about that?"

"Well I'm sure as hell not getting on your narrow shoulders, Jack Sprat," he scoffed. "I'm pretty sturdy, I'm sure I can handle you."

"No, I mean... our cuffs are on opposite hands," Danny pointed out.

"So what?"

"So, if I get on your shoulders, we're gonna have to face... different directions. Our arms won't be able to reach that far across while I'm getting up," he said, then hastily added, "on your shoulders," as if Jason might think he was talking about something else.

"Whatever, man, we need to know what's outside, so climb the fuck on and stop wasting my time." Jason stood with his back toward the wall and squatted to give Danny easier access to his shoulders.

Danny hesitated for a few seconds until Jason used his uncuffed hand to pat his shoulder impatiently.

"Okay... if you're sure about this."

Carefully, he slid one leg between Jason's head and their manacled hands, and then hefted the other over until his knees were hooked over Jason's shoulders. 

And Jason, now with a face-full of Danny's crotch, finally caught on to the reason for Danny's hesitance. He turned his face into the slightly less objectionable position of being buried in Danny's thigh and leaned his head away as much as he could, trying not to blush and failing miserably. Both hands reached up to hold onto Danny's thighs for stability as he carefully stood up.

Even sitting on Jason's shoulders, Danny had to use his free hand to pull himself up a little further to see through the window.

"Do you see anything?"

"It's definitely outdoors," Danny responded. "It's dark so it must be night right now. I don't see any people, either, but I don't have a great angle. Looks almost like a military base." He looked down at Jason questioningly. "Did we get kidnapped by the military?"

"How should I know? Last thing I remember is leaving my apartment to go... uh... grocery shopping," he covered quickly.

Come to think of it, Jason really did need to go grocery shopping. He was getting low on a lot of things and it wasn't smart to have a safe-house less than fully stocked. Plus, some of his canned goods were getting close to the expiration date, so he should really donate them before then, even if expiration dates were mostly bogus, he felt better when food got eaten before them. Safer. He really didn't want to get E. coli again, like that time when he was a kid. Once was more than enough.

On the bright side, though, thinking about foodborne illnesses was helping Jason fight off his blush. Silver-linings.

"Can you climb out through the window?" he asked.

Three loud bonks echoed in the concrete room.

"Outlook not so good," Danny replied. "Shatterproof, and a solid inch thick, and I'm at a terrible angle to try and break it, even if I could. Judging by the water stains, it leaks around the edges, but it's not loose enough to just pry it out without tools. Looks like the windows aren't an option, unless you have a crowbar on you."

Jason grimaced. "No."

"I guess we gotta look for another way out of here," Danny said. "Let me down."

Jason slowly knelt down so he could carefully extricate himself from his perch.

"The two of us got in here somehow, so there must be some way to get out," Danny continued, dragging Jason by the handcuff to another wall and feeling around for... secret passages or something? Jason didn't know.

"Unless this is a Cask of Amontillado kind of situation."

"What's that?" Danny asked. "Some kinda booze?"

"No, it's..." Jason paused, considering. "Well... actually, yes, but I was referring to the short story by Edgar Allan Poe."

"Oh, the raven guy! Yeah, my goth friend loves him. Personally I'm not much of a reader. Too busy, y'know." 

Jason pulled a face. "Poor excuse," he said. "Anyway, what I meant is that they might have walled us in while we were unconscious."

"You think?" Danny asked, taking his hand off the wall. "Isn't that too convoluted? I mean if they had us in this room, unconscious, why not just shoot us, or stab us, or even strangle us? There are so many much simpler and easier ways to kill someone. Why go through the trouble of walling us in?"

"You have a point," Jason admitted. "Plus, if there was no way to escape, why bother handcuffing us together? If we're dealing with the kind of people who can knock us out and erase our memories, then there has to be some reason for them keeping us alive."

"What if this is a test?" Danny asked. "Like an escape room or something?"

"Somehow, I don't think that's likely," Jason disagreed. "If they wanted us to escape, they'd have left a note or something, or some kind of tool. I don't see anything written on the walls, so at least we know it's not the Riddler's doing. My guess is, whoever put us in here is just saving us for later."

"You think so?"

Danny went back to feeling around the flat wall resolutely.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a secret door!" he said. "If they plan to come get us later then there has to be an exit somewhere." 

"It could be a door that only opens from the other side," Jason pointed out. "Plus, we don't know if they cuffed us before or after putting us in here. It's possible the exit is too small for two people cuffed together."

"Why are you being such a downer?" Danny complained.

"I'm just trying to cover all our bases."

"If that were the case, you'd be pointing out bases we can actually cover!" barked Danny, taking a step back from the wall to turn and glare at Jason. "If it's a one way door, or a passage two small for the both of us, there's nothing we can actually do about that. We should be focusing on the possibilities we can do something about."

Jason clenched his teeth and scowled. Normally this would be about where he started to lose his temper, but remarkably, he was still under control. As much as this guy was getting under his skin, Jason somehow managed to keep his cool. He wasn't going to tell Danny he was right... but he was right. And, if only in his own mind, Jason could acknowledge that without blowing up at someone.

"If there's a secret door, you should be looking for it where there are seams in the concrete," Jason said instead. "They'd make it easier to hide."

Instantly, Danny's eyes darted across the walls before landing on the nearest seam. At least he actually listened.

"Hey!" Jason yelped as Danny dragged him to it. What a hyperactive guy. "Ugh. You'll also want to look for scrape marks that could indicate a door swinging or sliding open, although those could be on the opposite side. And there's also a chance—if there's a secret door at all—that it could be on the floor or ceiling, like a trapdoor, or a hidden elevator."

"Got it."

"And if they weren't planning for us to slowly suffocate and die down here, then there's probably an air vent, too, although I doubt they'd make it big enough to crawl through."

Danny scoffed. "Especially for you, Mr. broad-shouldered muscle guy," he said. 

There was an awkward pause before he added, "That was supposed to be an insult. You're big and probably heavy, was what I was going for. It's not my fault you're obviously buff."

"I'm big?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking, stretch."

"Hey, I'm not that tall!" replied Danny, indignantly. "My sister is taller. And my dad is like seven feet, so compared to that, six-three is basically average."

"Jesus Christ, how tall's your sister? What, is she an Amazon or something?"

"She's six foot five, and no, she's not an Amazon, she's a brain surgeon—well, going to be. She's still in medical school, but she graduates this year."

"What did your parents feed you two?"

For some reason, that particular question seemed to strike a nerve, and Danny shifted, visibly uncomfortable.

"Can we just focus on finding a way out? Please?" 

"Fine, sure," Jason relented. "Somebody's sensitive." 

Danny ignored him and kept dragging him along to the next seam in the wall. 

"Look," Jason pointed to the floor. There was a tiny white scrape mark at the bottom of the seam.

"Scrape mark!" Danny noted. "This could be it."

"If it is, it'll open outward. But there's no guarantee we can force it open from this side, and we have no idea what's on the other side."

"If there are guards or something, we'll have to be ready for a fight," Danny agreed.

"Our only shot at opening it—if it actually is a secret door and not a coincidence—is gonna be slamming our full body weight into it," Jason said. "We need to concentrate as much of the force as we can right on the edge. Think you can handle it?"

"Sure I can," Danny agreed, positioning himself to body-slam the wall.

For a bare moment, Jason considered just standing still and watching Danny slam himself full-force into a concrete wall. It would definitely be good for a laugh. But them being tied together meant that Jason would probably just fall on his face. And on the off-chance it was a secret door, he would rather die again that have to hear this particular pain-in-the-ass say 'I told you so'.

"Ready?" Danny asked.

Reluctantly, Jason positioned himself and nodded.

"On three. One. Two. Three!"

the two of them took a running start and slammed into the wall as hard as they could. Even with the meaty parts of his body absorbing most of the impact, Jason still grunted in pain. Surprisingly, Danny didn't even seem to flinch.

More surprisingly, the concrete shifted. Putting their whole weight into it, the pair of them pushed as hard as they could. There was a quiet scraping sound as it dragged across the floor. Soon enough, though, the hidden door was open, and they were standing on the other side.

"I can't believe there was actually a hidden door," Jason remarked as it slowly fell closed behind them. "Honestly, I was just humoring you."

"Hey!" Danny sounded surprised and a little upset.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Now we have to get out of this room," Jason put his free hand on his hip and looked unimpressed.

The room they were in now was much smaller than the room they had been in before. Thankfully, there were no guards inside. The ceiling was the same height as the room they'd just left—even if the room itself was smaller—with a single florescent light and an air vent that looked like it might be big enough for them. There was also a door and a window with blinds opposite the secret door they'd come through. 

On this side of the secret door was a keypad and retinal scanner.

Now that he was seeing this side, Jason felt sure that the two of them should not have been able to force the door open from the other side with brute strength. Either he was a lot stronger than he thought he was... or Danny was a lot stronger than he gave him credit for. He side-eyed the taller man suspiciously.

"At least this room has a door," Danny said. Jason easily followed as he stepped over to look through the window. He spread the blinds with his fingers, and almost instantly let them fall shut again.

"What is it?"

"White suit," Danny said. He looked as if he was holding his breath, muscles stiff and jaw clenched.

"What does that mean?" Jason asked.

Danny looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head and visibly forcing himself to relax. "Nothing," he said finally. "Just a weird fashion choice."

Jason narrowed his eyes, wondering why Danny would lie when his reaction had obviously been about more than just his fashion choices. Danny kept talking before Jason could press, though, so Jason decided to let it slide for the time being.

"Anyway, I was wondering how long it would take before we ran into a guard," Danny said. "It's just the one, though, and he has headphones on playing music so loud I can hear it through the window. That's probably why he didn't hear us up to now. I'm sure we can take him."

"I'd rather not tip them off to our escape if we can avoid it," Jason disagreed. He jerked his head upward, indicating the air vent. "I'm pretty sure that vent will hold us. You think we can get up there?"

Danny examined it with a thoughtful look. It was definitely too high for him to reach just by sitting on Jason's shoulders like before, but it was worth a shot if it meant getting out of here without anyone realizing they were gone.

"How much do you weigh?" Danny asked.

"About 225," Jason answered.

"Damn, okay," Danny said. "Yeah, I can get up there, but we'd better hope that vent is really strong."

"You can?"

"Yeah." Danny grabbed Jason by the shoulders and carefully positioned him right under the vent. "Stand here, and hold as still as you can."

With that, Danny tightened his grip, jumped off the floor, and kicked off the wall behind him, so he was doing a hand-stand on Jason's shoulders, his knees bent. He quickly straitened his knees, kicking the vent cover out.

Jason reached out his uncuffed hand to catch it as it fell to the ground. Even with headphones on, the guard would have heard it clatter. Although... he should have heard the crash, too. Damn, he must have had his volume maxed out. He was likely to ruin his hearing that way.

Danny wriggled is way up into the vent, and then reached down to pull Jason up after him. It was awkward, and took both of their combined strength, but they managed to get Jason up there.

"Wow, you really are sturdy," Danny remarked at a whisper. "You didn't even sway or anything."

"You're really not that heavy," Jason said. "That was... kind of impressive, though, I'll admit. You're stronger than I expected." 

"Ha, thanks."

The two of them were on their stomachs, their faces just inches away from each other in a dark, dusty vent. Jason cleared his throat.

"We should get moving," he said. "You go backward. The vent probably gets smaller toward the room we were trapped in."

"Got it." 

Danny began awkwardly shimmying backward through the vent with Jason following closely. Thanks to their shackles, they couldn't put much breathing room between them. A few times, they nearly knocked their foreheads together. 

Jason was grateful for the darkness. There was no way Danny could see how red his face was. 

God, when was this uncomfortable foray through the vents going to be over? The quarters were way too close. Jason could smell Danny's lemony-fresh lip balm. And he was very deliberately having no thoughts about that.

Suddenly, Danny stopped, and Jason once more narrowly avoided slamming their faces together by accident. There was a soft tapping sound coming from behind Danny.

"This is either a dead end behind me, or another grate," he said.

"Well, which one is it?" 

"Shhh!"

Jason scowled, but was silent, letting Danny listen for whatever he needed to hear to decide what the answer was. 

"I'm pretty sure I hear crickets," he said finally. "So it's a grate... probably. I'm gonna try and kick it out and see what happens."

Danny squirmed a little farther back, lining himself up, giving his feet as much room as possible so he could kick the grate with maximum force.

Then there was a loud clang and a quiet thud of metal on dirt. 

"Yup, grate," Danny said, working his way back out of the opening.

Finally, they were outside, and what a relief it was to be more than three inches away from Danny's face.

"What was that?" they heard someone say from around the corner.

"Shit," Jason whispered. 

He grabbed the vent cover in one hand and Danny's hand in the other and hurried as quietly as he could. Hopefully, if there wasn't a dented vent cover laying there, they would think nothing was amiss. The dirt was dry and shifty, so it probably wouldn't leave clear footprints, especially if they were running. At least... he hoped it wouldn't.

When he was pretty sure no one had followed them, he stopped in a narrow path between the back of a building and a chain-link fence and chucked the vent cover over to the other side.

"You know, we're handcuffed together," Danny pointed out. "You don't have to hold my hand."

Jason immediately dropped Danny's hand like it had burned him. "I didn't mean to. I was trying to act fast."

"Sure you were."

"Shut up," Jason hissed. "Listen, I don't think we're in Gotham anymore."

"You're right," Danny agreed. "If there was a base like this in Gotham city limits, I would know about it. So where do you think we are?"

"I don't know, but the more pressing question is: how do we get out of here when we don't know where we are or which way we're going?"

Danny gestured for Jason to follow and led the way to the edge of the building, very carefully peering around the corner. "There, you see that big warehouse looking building with the curved roof?" he asked, pointing it out.

Jason looked around the corner and easily spotted it. "Yeah. That's an aircraft hangar, right?"

"Bingo," Danny said.

Jason grinned. He didn't know planes very well, but if there was a helicopter in there, he could fly them home. It would be loud, though, so once he got the engine going, he'd have to act fast.

"We should skirt around the edges, less risk of running into someone," Jason said. 

Danny nodded in agreement.

Quickly and quietly, the two of them made their way along the chain-link fence, sprinting across the gaps between buildings, until they reached the back door of the aircraft hangar.

"Locked," Jason sneered. "Help me find a big rock."

"Or..." Danny said, pulling Jason closer by the handcuff. He wrapped the cord around the door handle in a weird and very particular way, then pulled as hard as he could. 

The handle came out completely. They could hear the clatter on the other side of the door as the opposite side fell to the floor. Then Danny reached in to pull out the latch. He held it up with a victorious smirk.

Jason blinked in shock as the door swung open all on its own. "Yeah, whatever," he grumbled, pushing past Danny. He refused to be impressed by something as simple as opening a door... even if it was kind of impressive.

They couldn't risk turning any lights on, meaning they had to check each aircraft one-by one, but none of these shadowy silhouettes looked like a helicopter. And upon closer inspection, none of them looked like regular planes either.

"What are these? Experimental crafts?" Jason asked. "I can't fly any of these."

Danny snorted. "You thought you were gonna fly them?" he asked.

Jason could feel his frustration growing again. He finally realized why it felt different though. No matter how much Danny got on his nerves, it was only regular frustration and anger. The Lazarus Pit inside him stayed still and silent. It had been silent the whole time. Was it this place? Or was it something weird about Danny himself.

"Oh, and you think you're gonna fly a fuckin' experimental stealth bomber or hyper-sonic jet?" Jason scoffed.

"Uh... yeah," Danny said obviously. "I mean, I'm a test pilot for Wayne Enterprises' aeronautics and space division. It's kinda what I do."

"... oh."

"We should go with a stealth jet," Danny said, pulling Jason over to a plane they'd passed earlier, one which was painted pitch black. "That way they'll have a harder time tracking us once they realize we're gone."

"I agree, but as soon as that hangar door opens, we're gonna have guards on our asses," Jason pointed out.

"Right. I'll see if one of these jets has vertical takeoff capabilities so we don't have to get to a runway."

After examining all the stealth planes in the hangar, the best they could find was one with near-vertical takeoff capabilities. It would have to be enough. Danny deactivated the tracker so their captors wouldn't be able to follow, and then prepared for them to take off. The engine was nearly silent as he taxied the small jet in front of the hangar door. 

The next problem was that, to open the hangar door, someone would have to stand there and hold down the door button.

"We could tape it down," Danny suggested.

"With what fucking tape?" Jason shot back.

"How are you at knot tying?"

"We don't have rope or string either, genius."

"I can tear a strip of fabric off my shirt," Danny said, frowning in irritation. "Why are you always shooting down my ideas?"

Jason wanted to argue—mostly because Danny just generally made him want to argue, but he wanted to get out of here more. "Fine, yes, I'm good at knot tying. That'll probably—possibly, potentially work. Maybe."

"Why can't you admit that I had a good idea?"

"Because you're a pain in the ass."

"Oh, and you're not?" Danny shot back, rolling his eyes.

He lifted up the bottom of his shirt to tear the hem off with his teeth, and Jason was surprised to see lean muscle and toned abs—though perhaps he shouldn't have been, considering how strong Danny had already proven to be, despite how skinny he looked. Even more surprising, and definitely more noteworthy, however, was the large, Y shaped scar spanning Danny's entire torso. 

Jason bit back a gasp as his hand slowly reached up to his own chest, his fingers landing on the intersection of a scar just like that.

Danny was like him.

Danny had died and come back, like Jason had. Was that why the pit was so quiet around him? Was that why Jason felt so inexplicably antagonistic?

"Here." Danny held out a strip of white fabric for Jason to take, apparently not noticing that he was still staring.

Jason took it, but didn't start tying yet. He couldn't stop thinking about it. About Danny.

"How did you get that scar?" Jason asked. He couldn't help himself.

Danny's eyes widened. "What scar?"

"The fucking Y-incision scar across your torso! What the hell do you mean 'what scar'?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Danny said, though the way he shifted his weight and averted his eyes suggested that he knew exactly what Jason was talking about. "Can you just tie down the button so we can get out of here?"

"Fine," Jason relented through gritted teeth. They'd have plenty of time to talk on the plane.

He tightly wrapped the fabric until the button pushed down and tied it securely. Once that was done, and the door was steadily rising, the two of them sprinted toward the jet in lockstep. 

By the time the got to the jet and took their seats in the cockpit, the door was only halfway open. 

An alarm was sounding outside, and guards had already arrived. There were dozens of them, men in white suits forming a solid line across the entire entryway. They took aim with futuristic-looking laser weapons, but unfortunately for them, it seemed their jet was laser-proof. 

As one, Danny and Jason turned to each other.

"How cool are you with just running these guys over?" they asked one another in unison.

Danny laughed and started flipping switches. "Guess that answers that question," he said cheerfully. "If they value their lives they'll move."

Maybe Danny wasn't so bad after all. 

Jason watched in awe. He could barely recognize any of the controls. They looked like nothing he'd seen before, and he couldn't even guess the purpose of half of them, but Danny took to them with practiced ease. Jason just let his arm be pulled across the cockpit by their manacles without resistance.

In no time the jet was moving, and those white-suited guards held steady until the last possible second before diving out of the way. Jason had no idea how Danny timed it so perfectly, but as soon as they cleared the hangar, they started lifting off into the sky.

"Jason, see that switch there?" Danny pointed to a blue switch on Jason's side of that dashboard. "That should be the landing gear. Flip it!"

Jason did so quickly, and they felt a slight shift as the landing gear collapsed into the underside of the plane just in time to avoid clipping the building across. Danny sighed with relief.

"Oh thank the Ancients," he said. "I was only about sixty percent sure that was the landing gear."

"Wait, have you been guessing at all the controls?"

"Most of 'em," Danny admitted with a shrug. "I'm a test pilot for experimental planes and rockets and stuff. I've flown countless different crafts, all with slightly different controls, but they're all variations on the same standard. Like, see these blue buttons next to the screen. One is global positioning, one is radar, one is proximity cameras. Do I know which is which? Of course not. I've never flown this model before. But I know they're all there."

Jason pressed each of the three buttons. The top was radar, the center was proximity cameras, and the bottom was GPS, just like Danny had guessed.

"Looks like we're over the Midwest, flying east," Jason observed.

Danny looked down at the screen and adjusted his heading to a slightly more southerly direction.

"Where are we gonna land exactly?" Jason asked. 

"I was thinking the airport," Danny said. "They have air traffic control there, so we can minimize the risk of crashing. We should have plenty of fuel. I just hope the weather's not against us. It was supposed to snow, last I checked. Hopefully it won't be too bad." 

For a short while, silence fell over them. Judging by their speed, the flight was going to be about an hour and a half, as long as the weather was fair. As much as two hours if they got caught in the snow. Without an approved route from the FAA, they had to fly at a lower altitude to avoid other crafts.

"So, when did you die?" Jason asked, hoping the shock of the sudden question might trick Danny into answering.

Danny just sighed. "How'd you know?"

"Well, the autopsy scar was kinda of a dead giveaway," Jason said.

Danny cracked a smile. "Right, autopsy."

"Plus... I don't know how to describe it, but I can kind of just... sense death on you. Did you get brought back in a Lazarus Pit too?"

"What's a Lazarus Pit?" Danny asked. "And what do you mean 'too'? Have you died before?"

"You didn't pick up on it? I thought it would be mutual."

"Well, you never set off my ghost sense or anything, so how would I know that? Now what's a Lazarus Pit."

"Some magic water or some shit that can heal wounds and bring the dead back to life," Jason said. "You never actually answered my original question though. When did you die? And how did you come back, if it wasn't a Lazarus Pit?"

"Oh, when I was fourteen," Danny said. "There was... it's complicated. Basically I died and was brought back to life at the same time? Something like that." 

"Sounds intense."

"You have no idea," Danny shook his head. "What about you?"

"I was fifteen," Jason replied. "Joker." Danny winced. "I don't actually know how I came back either. I wasn't really lucid for a long time. It wasn't until I got thrown in a Lazarus Pit that I could remembered who I was."

"Yikes."

"That about sums it up, yeah."

Jason couldn't exactly pin-point when, but at some point between waking up in that cold, empty room, and flying in a stolen jet toward home, Danny had gone from a pure, unadulterated annoyance, to... a fond annoyance? Maybe even, almost, a friend? He had a nice laugh. Pretty eyes. And he was smarter than Jason had wanted to give him credit for, a quick-thinker.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Motherfucker," Jason cursed under his breath. He wasn't seriously becoming attracted to this idiot. No way.

"What?" Danny asked.

"Don't worry about it," Jason said. "So uh... how'd you start working for Wayne Enterprises?" Jason hoped that the reminder that this guy worked for Bruce would be enough of a turn-off to quash this thing before it really got rolling.

"I always wanted to be an astronaut, so after I got my pilot certification, I applied to every aeronautics and space facility in the country, and of the places that accepted my application, Wayne Enterprises paid the best."

"Shame about having to work for Bruce Wayne, though," Jason said. "That guy's an idiot."

"I've never actually met him," Danny said. "Any time he comes in to check up on everything, I make myself scarce. I don't exactly have the best track record with billionaires."

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"My godfather is a Billionaire," he started to explain. "He was friends with my parents in college. Shady as fuck, obsessed with my mom, tried to kill my dad several times so he could marry her and adopt me. Never mentioned my older sister for some reason. All-in-all, he was a major fruit loop, so I'm not pressing my luck with another billionaire who already has a substantial track record of adoptions. Nuh-uh. No way."

Jason snorted. Damn, that didn't work. He only liked Danny more now.

"What about you?" Danny asked. "What do you do for a living?"

"Uhh..." Jason tried to think of a suitable lie, since he couldn't exactly say he was a crime lord. "I... work... in Crime Alley."

"Are you a criminal?"

"What?"

"Well, you did say you work some place called Crime Alley," Danny pointed out reasonably. "And you're being very vague about the actual nature of that work. So I can only assume that you're a criminal. That or Crime Alley is the name of a sex shop or something. I could see that."

"No, Crime Alley is a neighborhood in Gotham," Jason said. "You haven't heard of it?"

"Maybe... in passing." Danny shrugged. "I've only lived in Gotham for about a year and a half. Anyway, if you are a criminal, I don't want to know. Plausible deniability is the name of the game, and I will not be responsible for saving your soul or whatever. I don't do that shit anymore."

Didn't seem to care if Jason was a criminal, or have any interest in 'fixing' him. Somehow, Danny was checking all the boxes.

"Anymore?"

"Don't worry about it."

"You know, you're kind of a weirdo," Jason said, and damn if that didn't make him even more attractive.

"I'm aware."

The conversation lulled once more, and Jason became more aware of his left hand hanging between them by the handcuffs while Danny kept both hands on the steering. It was starting to get pretty uncomfortable.

"Isn't there autopilot or something?" he asked. "My arm is getting tired."

"Is there autopilot at two-thirds cruising altitude, with no flight plan, and no approval from the FAA to be in the sky at all?" Danny said. "Hmm, let me think. Yeah, no."

"Right... well, I know a guy who can get these things off us. I'm calling him as soon as we get back to Gotham."

"And Ancients it can't be soon enough," Danny said. "Also, not gonna ask why you know a guy who can remove handcuffs."

"I know a lot of guys who can remove handcuffs." Jason shrugged. "Hell, if there was an actual lock on these, I could've removed 'em myself. Even without a lock, Dick could've slipped 'em by dislocating his thumb. It looks freaky as hell when he does it, though."

"Dick?" Danny turned to him momentarily to raise an eyebrow. "Is that his name or do you just hate the guy?"

"Both."

"Who willingly goes by Dick these days? And why?"

"Fuck if I know."

As the flight went on, the conversation waxed and waned. With what ended up being nearly two hours to fill, the two talked about many things: their homes, their hobbies. Danny talked about his sister the brain surgeon for a bit, but neither was particularly eager to talk about their families.

Conversation turned to banter, which turned to blatant flirting, and by the time they reached Gotham airspace, Jason was pretty sure he had the cute, undead test pilot in the bag.

"Air traffic control tower this is... uh... I don't know," Danny said. "We're an undesignated experimental craft, requesting permission to land preferably sooner rather than later, because we're low on fuel."

"This is air traffic control to undesignated aircraft, about how much longer can you stay airborne?"

"I estimate fifteen minutes at the most," Danny replied. "This thing burns through fuel a lot faster than I was expecting."

"Standby."

Soon enough they were on the ground. Then they had to try to explain to the airport employees why they were handcuffed together and flying an unregistered aircraft. It took a while, but Danny and Jason both, as it turned out, were quite proficient liars, and managed to get away without too much trouble, somehow.

They took a cab to the Bowery where Jason's locksmith sawed them out of the cuffs, and from there, they were able to go their separate ways. But Jason didn't want to part ways without knowing if he'd ever see Danny again.

"So uh..." he started to say while they hesitated on the sidewalk. "Can... can I walk you home?"

"I live all the way down in Tricorner," Danny said. "It's a bit far to walk."

"Okay, then how about you walk me home and I'll give you a ride in the morning?"

"Alright, smooth-talker." Danny smiled and held out his hand, and Jason took it with a smile of his own. "I'm in."

danny's the most 'guy who can't leave well enough alone' ever

Prompt 142

Dan came from the Flashpoint timeline, which was destroyed. Well, mostly destroyed. There were a few things that slipped through, which would be concerning if it was anything else. Honestly Danny has no clue what to think about the murder-grandpa Batman ghost, but honestly, he’s happy to get proper training and- holy fuck the murder-batman just oneshot Vlad away this is his new favorite person. 

A mouth-watering fuck-ton of hand angle references.

By Shadowcross on DA.

I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.

And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.

(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)

(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)

(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)

And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.

(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)

One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.

One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.

What happens next?

Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.

And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.

Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.

It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.

Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".

Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.

He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.

In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.

In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.

In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.

Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.

It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.

It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.

(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)

(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)

(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)

(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)

(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)

(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)

It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.

And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.

Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.

Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.

And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.

It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.

(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)

In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.

Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.

Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.

And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.

If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.

There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.

And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.

He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.

And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.

It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.

Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)

Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.

Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.

(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)

(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)

He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.

Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.

...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.

(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)

And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.

Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.

It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.

It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.

Damian is experienced.

Damian is a child.

Damian knows how to fight.

Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.

Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.

And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.

Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.

Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)

It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.

He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.

Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.

Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.

Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.

Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.

Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.

He only cries harder.

Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.

Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.

"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.

When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.

"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.

He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."

Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.

It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.

Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:

The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.

Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.

They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.

On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.

It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.

Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.

It was... quite the staring contest.

Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.

Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.

Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.

"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"

Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.

"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.

He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."

There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.

"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.

"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.

"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."

They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.

Batman is silently brooding.

Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."

Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.

He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.

"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.

Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."

Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."

Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.

"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."

(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)

"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.

"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."

(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)

Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.

"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."

Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.

(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)

Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."

Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.

Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.

....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."

(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)

Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."

From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.

However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.

Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.

The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.

Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.

("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."

Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")

When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.

His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.

Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.

He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.

"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."

The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.

His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.

I just discovered the ultimate hand drawing technique during class today. I call it, the FOOT METHOD observe,

So first we draw the sole of a foot like this:

Than we add three circles (like toes)

Now we add a "flap"

And a little oval

And the thumb

the rest of the fingers:

the best part of this technique is that it works almost always, like so

Now I'm leaving a more in depth explanation for this under the cut

alright so the hand is actually two separate pieces, the palm and the thumb.

The palm is kind of foot shaped and the thumb is a triangle

So I figured it would be easier to draw if I were to simplify it into two shapes instead of one it'd be easier to foreshorten.

And I was right!

The "foot" doesn't really move at all so if you want to foreshorten it all you got to do is change the size depending on the pose.

Where as the "flap" often changes completely, but at it's core it's mostly triangle shaped, So keep that in mind.

If you're doing a side view, then if we're looking at it from the thumb side it's usually a triangle and if we're looking at it from the pinky it's usually a rectangle.

Fingers are a whole other ordeal, but the main thing I noticed is that they start out thick, are thinnest in the middle and thick at the tip.

Thumbs are two joints connected to the "flap" opposed to the three joints of the rest of the fingers.

Aaand that all I got! I hope this helps somebody :D

LOVE

fan art

2004 Batman + Rogues Kids Universe

Joker: Look Batsy we have a Robin too!

Harley: We're a happy family, Batman!

Duela: Hiya!

Batman: Are you alright kiddo?

Duela: Sure. Yesterday I had no family. Now I have parents. *picks a malet* AND WE HAVE FUN! *hits Batman* HAHAHAHA

Batman: I hope this does not become a trend.

-/-

Batman: Penguin, let the hostage go! What's going on with you? Kidnnaping kids isn't really your style.

Penguin: I didn't kidnnaped no one. I was just thinking what is the point of restoring the Cooblepot name if I'm the last Cooblepot? We need to have someone behind, legacy and all. But them it hit me. Did ya know, Batman, that is not uncommon for Penguins to adopt lost chicks.

Batman: You didn't adopt. How could you with your criminal record? You kidnapped him, the boy must be terrifield.

Martin: *writing in his little notebook-necklace* I'm not scared.

Penguin: Wack wack see the lad isn't scared.

Martin: *writing in his notebook* I'm happy. : ) they said I woudn't be adoped but we showed them, right dad?

Penguin: Right on point, little bird.

Batman: I understand you want a family, kid, but someone can't just go to an orphanage and take you.

Martin: *writing* why not? it works

Batman: I'm sorry, kid. But I have to rescue you.

Oswald: You're not taking Martin alway Batman. I'm his dad! *opens his umbrella and flys alway with Martin hugging him*

Martin: *throws a notebook page on Batman's* it says "wack wack".

Batman: That doesn't mean is a trend. It may be a coincidence.

-/-

Riddler: Riddle me this, Batman-

Batman: Not you too.

Riddler: What?

Batman: *points to the kid dressed in question marks who is fighting Dick*

Riddler: What's the problem with Enigma?

Batman: How did you even got that kid? Street kid? Kidnapped from an orphanage because they solved one of your riddles? Their parents weren't good?

Riddler: I'm the one who does the questions here, Batman. But just so you know. None of the above.

Enigma: *they pretend to lose so Dick went to surprise attack Riddler and was surprise attacked, he is now tied to a broken heavy robot he destroyed sulking* I saw that the rogues were getting kids so when I saw Riddler grocery shopping I followed him home and kept asking him to adopt me until he said yes.

Riddler: They were very insistent.

Robin: Wow that's real Arkham behavior of you.

Enigma: Thanks.

Robin: You're welcome. You are really loony.

Batman: I shouldn't try but why?

Enigma: I like riddles and his hair is great.

Riddler: Thank you, your hair is also amazing, sweetie.

Batman: Is someone looking for you?

Enigma: Don't think so.

Batman: Sure. That's my life now.

-/-

Batman: Oh great. Another evil kid and this one is five.

Cluemaster: You see Batman, I couldn't avoid following the trend.

Batman: So you kidnapped a child?

Cluemaster: No. She is my biological kid.

Robin: YOU procreated? How?

Cluemaster: That's suppose to be Batman's job, but since you asked when a man and a woman like each other very much...

Batman: Stop. Let's just go with it.

Cluemaster: Okay. Steph go fight the Boy Wonder, will ya?

Robin: I'm not gonna punch a baby!

Spoiler: *at the same time* Don't wanna.

Cluemaster: Steph we went over it.

Spoiler: Nu-uh.

Cluemaster: Okay, let's start again. Steph tell Batman what you want to be when you grow up.

Spoiler: *smilling* I wanna be a hero like batgirl.

Cluemaster: NOOO.

Batman: *super happy this is actually not another evil kid* I'm sure Batgirl will be really happy that she inspired such a cool hero.

Spoiler: She will?

Batman: Uh-hu.

Cluemaster: Don't encorage her. We are EVIL, Steph. E-V-I-L! Because that's what smart people are and you are smart.

Spoiler: But smart people win and mean guys lose.

Cluemaster: You are grounded!

Spoiler: *cries* 'm not. Batman his stupid puzzle is red. Press the button and instead of going boom everyone goes yay.

Robin: *presses the red button* *the hostages are free* God one, kiddo.

Cluemaster: NOOO. *pulls Steph by the hair* I'm taking you to your room. You are grounded forever.

Batman: Hell no. Robin.

Robin: Yes, Batman?

Batman: Maybe the other rogues were right.

Robin: Gotcha. *they kidnap-adopt Steph*

Dc x Dp #35

Gotham has a Waffle House that has been almost untouched for a few months now. Sure there have been a few fights inside, but that's no big deal. The big deal is that their cook has stopped plenty of attacks from robbers and even well known rogues.

Many of the staff and regulars also believed that the same cook was also a cryptid of some kid with how quiet he is, how cold his presence is, and how he seemed to just appear out of nowhere with no sound being made. But who cares? His waffles are the bomb.

Danny is thankful for the steady night job, but would very much appreciate it if the Bats stopped watching him through the windows.

I started watching Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency and honestly I'm not super into it but Ken Adams fucking kills me.

Like. You meet this crazy woman who kills your employer and hasn't showered in weeks. Her hair is a nightmare. She's kidnapping you. She's talking about the path of the universe and her fate and how she's supposed to kill everyone she meets, she's fucking nuts. You're gonna die.

And then you don't. And the further you go with her, the more you start to realize that she's not bluffing, she legitimately kills everyone she meets. She won't die, the universe won't let it happen. She is completely unconcerned that you didn't die, because apparently this is just the way things work around her.

What if you met the god of death and she didn't kill you is already an insane starting point. What if the god of death took you on a roadtrip where she kills everyone she meets and you don't fucking die, despite all signs to the contrary? That's so insane, I love it.

Do you realize that Camp Half-blood is most probably a place full of juvenile delinquents? Like nearly all of them have committed a crime or two? If no, you should.

Jason Todd, Son of Sally Jackson

Jason Todd is Sally Jackson’s Biological Child.

Jason has already become Red Hood but hasn’t revealed his identity to Bruce and the Batfam yet. Sally hasn’t married Gabriel Ugliano yet. Percy is 6 years old.

After reuniting, Sally & Jason bond over their violent sense of justice/self-defense and Sally learns combat from Jason to protect both her sons with deadly force.

After learning Jason’s identity as Red Hood and his reasoning behind becoming a Drug Lord, she becomes Jason’s business partner that co-leads his gang under the codename ‘Queen’.

Queen & Red Hood become extremely well-known protectors of children and abused single parents, opening many parent & children shelters funded by their gang.

Percy is the mob’s baby brother, ‘Guppy,’ because of growing up the son and brother of Gotham’s most successful crime lords. They always made sure he hid his identity with a hoodie and gas mask to disguise his voice with the bonus of protecting him from Scarecrow & Poison Ivy’s attacks.

After receiving Medusa’s head from Percy, Sally makes a new “statue” every month or so. She contacts abused single parents, kills them with the parent’s consent, and gives 3/4 of the money she makes to the parent. This “charity sculpting” is allegedly as a favor to her fellow “grieving” single parents. Weirdly enough, she still ends up killing Gabriel Ugliano, despite never marrying him.

Inspired by miagirl3’s “Avoiding the Secrets” on Ao3

Reporter: Tell us Bruce, why have you recently decided to work out more? Do you just want to compete with our Clark? Or is it-

Bruce: My kids.

Reporter: I’m sorry what?

Bruce: I work out so I can still lift them.

Reporter: …

Bruce: if you have nothing else to ask I’m going to leave now. Let’s go Jaylad.

Bruce just picks up Jason and leaves.

Jason looks like a large dog that clearly isn’t used to being in the air.

Like this.

i think we as modern humans have a tendency to forget that historical people were also humans who had thoughts and feelings and dreams just like we do

Dick: Uh, Tim, why do you have a gold sticker on your arm?

Tim: Jason’s handing them out.

Damian, showing his arm off proudly: I got the most.

Dick: Um, that’s nice?

Tim: We each get one every time we punch someone in the face on patrol.

Dick: Okay, less nice…

Steph: Jason decided the best way to show his displeasure towards Bruce was to be as petty as possible.

Tim: B said it wasn’t necessary to punch everyone we saw committing crime in the face.

Dick: A bit hypocritical, but continue.

Steph: Jason saw the opening.

Damian: And I won.