Klarion The Witch Boy Sees Danny And Goes: That’s A Whole Xss Baby.

The Ancient Warrior

DP x DC Prompt

Danny is either bored of King work or is forced on a vacation from his Ghost King duties in the DC Universe. But because of Clockwork, Danny is sent the very distant past of the world, and because of his immortal body, something he got when he accepted the Crown of Flames and the Ring of Rage when he was 19, he doesn't age at all or die from being hot with a fatal blow.

Clockwork was the one to tell him to be a warrior where the Halfa found himself, so he donned a modified version of his Kingly Armor that covers his entire body and makes his voice deeper and more menacing and had done so. The modified armor he has allows him to access weaker versions of the Ancients powers.

Danny had unknowingly started a new religion in the DC Universe, the Warriors Religion. It's a religion about fighting, but even Danny himself has told those part of it, when he eventually found out about the religion, that it's not always about fighting physically, it can be for any battle one takes.

Danny has many fighting styles, as he is the Ghost King and needs to defend himself when attacked, which are made up of many long dead fighting styles from many Ghosts in the Infinite Realms, amd because Pandora was one of his mentors, he had Amazonian training as well.

As the years go by, with it getting closer to modern times in the DC Universe, Danny has had many students and adversaries. Ra's Al Ghul and his daughters Talia and Nyssa were some of his students, Diana of Themyscira was an adversary, but not one to battle him to death like many others before her. And then he got another student, Bruce Wayne. While training Bruce, the Al Ghuls would challenge him in battles, but not to the death, as they seen what he did to those killed, as whenever he killed someone, the intense emotions, the ectoplasm from him, and a violent death at his hands causes all his opponents to become Ghosts, but before they could fully form, he gently grabs there forming core in one hand, and teleports them to the Infinite Realms after saying something to the cores. Because those he kills and sends to the Infinite Realms can not be revived by the Lazarus Pits

"May you find peace in the afterlife" for those that had no ill will

"May you find redemption in the afterlife" for bad guys he kills

When Danny is not his 'Warrior' persona, he's an average Gothamite with an average job and trying to survive till the next day in the chaotic city he calls home.

Like and Survive! (DC x DP)

Everyone knows who Phantom is. He was one of the very first heroes though he inexplicably chose to dedicate his life (metaphorically) to micromanaging the hell out of some random town no one has ever heard of. He's a specialist hero, only really useful for ghost stuff. He comes every time someone contacts him for help but it's only happened a few times in all of his years of operation.

Then, kid heroes become a thing. Robin, once perpetually hidden beneath the shadow of the bat emerges into the metropolis sun just in time to make the front page.

When Batman's child-raising skills are called into question, Kid Flash is brought out at a press release by Flash to show that these exceptional children are around. They just aren't common knowledge for their own health (aside from the villains - being a child star wrecks your brain).

A few villains do come forward and say "no, the sidekicks will go out on their own if their hero doesn't let them. And they have all the powers and none of the restraint. Please don't separate them."

(Batman and Robin are both very flattered that all their rogues think they have powers. Robin is ✨glowing✨ with pride.)

Cyborg calls Robin at 3am. He asks if he's seen the new 'BooTube' page.

Phantom has set up his own website. It's a dark and moody ripoff of YouTube with 1 channel. His.

Introduction Video: Transcript Hi guys, I can't lie to you, I was as up-in-arms as anyone when I saw what people are now calling "The Robin Reveal". But then I remembered that I started my hero work when I was mentally and physically fourteen years old...

Danny doesn't mention he was also chronologically 14 at the time. Secret identities and all.

...and I had no mentor, no training and no backup. It was just me and two humans, neither of whom even had powers at that time. I understand the call, in a way that none of the non-hero people criticising you could ever hope to comprehend. I'm glad to see most of you fellow child-heroes have an experienced adult watching your back. But if you don't. If there's even one of you out there who need a mentor, consider Amity Park open for business, and consider adding my number to your speedial. I'm not like those people in interviews saying "Oh, someone needs to help the children!" I am helping you, I am helping you whenever you need with whatever you want.

The ghost swallows and seemingly forces down his brimming sincerity.

And for those of you who do already have backup? Consider checking back here. I'm going over my old reports from my first few years on the streets to see what I most needed to hear, and what I wished I knew sooner. Hopefully no one else will have to learn what I know the hard way.

You know how to fight, this channel won't be for that. This is about coping with secret identities, and the messed up situations that can only happen to a vigilante or hero.

Anyways, the first video is already ready to be edited so in a few days I'll be back here to discuss what you do when you've been cloned. How to deal with that emotionally and physically. My clone isn't very well known outside of my town but I think she'll add a great perspective!

Within weeks, without his knowledge, Danny is somehow remote-mentoring heroes of all ages.

Sometimes, I wish hazmat au was canon, I would be so feral about the astronaut connection.

Perfect Disaster

Dick loved Jazz. He really did. She was incredible—strong, smart, funny, and probably the only person on Earth who could keep up with him in a spar without wanting to throttle him. She got his jokes, finished his sentences, and punched him in the arm whenever he got too smug.

They were supposed to be perfect for each other.

So why was he in love with Dan?

Why had his wedding day been filled with flashes of ice-blue eyes and a voice that always sounded just a little too unimpressed?

Why did his stomach drop every time he thought about Dan looking at him with something almost like affection, only to turn away like it had never been there?

It was driving him insane.

And Jazz—God, poor Jazz. She was so good, so devoted, so present, and Dick? Dick was the worst husband alive.

He’d caught himself zoning out during dinner last week, staring at his fork like it was the most interesting thing in the world, because Jazz had mentioned something in passing, and his brain had gone straight to how Dan would never say something like that. Dan doesn’t talk that much. Dan doesn’t talk at all unless he had to.

Jazz deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t actively fantasizing about her brother at the worst possible moments.

And worst of all?

She had no idea.

He was a such horrible person

Jazz was losing her mind.

She was in love with her husband. She knew she was. Dick was amazing—bright and loud and brilliant, always moving, always there. He made her laugh, he made her feel seen, he made life fun.

So why was Jason the one she thought about late at night?

Why was it his voice that echoed in her head when she had a bad day? Why did she find herself catching her breath when he smiled, when he laughed, when he looked at her like she was something worth knowing?

It was awful. It was disgusting. It was—

It was fine. She’d bury it. She’d ignore it.

Dick loved her. She loved Dick. Everything was fine.

Except…

Except Dick had been distracted lately. Not in the normal “up all night on patrol” way. No, this was different.

He was off.

He’d started spacing out in the middle of conversations, looking guilty when she caught him. He’d smile too wide, laugh too loud, cover up whatever he was thinking with that performance of his, but Jazz knew him too well.

Something was wrong.

She wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Because if she asked, maybe he’d ask back. Maybe he’d say why are you acting weird too? Why do you freeze when Jason calls? Why do you look at him like—

No. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.

Everything was fine.

Things got worse.

Dick started overcompensating.

Big romantic gestures, flowers, expensive dinners, soft kisses on her forehead, murmured I love yous like he was trying to convince himself they were real.

Jazz responded in kind.

Lingering touches, doting smiles, playing the role of the perfect wife because God help her, she was going to make this work.

And in their desperate attempts to fix a problem neither of them had named, they didn’t notice what was happening right in front of them.

Didn’t notice the way Dick’s eyes always strayed when Dan was in the room, how his voice softened just slightly when they spoke.

Didn’t notice the way Jazz’s breath hitched when Jason laughed, how she leaned in just a little too much when he talked to her.

Didn’t notice that they were both drowning, clinging to each other in a sinking ship, hoping that if they just held on tight enough, they wouldn’t go under.

And it was only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed.

It all came crashing down over brunch.

Dick had been jittery all morning, bouncing his leg under the table, stirring his coffee five times before taking a sip. Jazz had been the same, shoveling food into her mouth like it might stop her from blurting out something catastrophic.

They were a mess. A mutual, collective disaster.

And then—

"Jazz, I—"

"Dick, I—"

They both stopped, blinking at each other. Jazz swallowed, setting her fork down.

"You first," she said, voice tight.

Dick inhaled sharply. This was it. This was the moment he ruined everything.

"I'm—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, bracing himself for impact. "I'm in love with someone else."

Silence.

A long, heavy, horrifying silence.

And then—

"Oh thank God," Jazz blurted out, nearly knocking her coffee over.

Dick blinked. "What?"

"I'm in love with someone else too," she said, her shoulders sagging like someone had finally lifted a hundred-pound weight off her back. "Oh my God, Dick, I thought I was the worst person alive, I was so scared to tell you—"

"You were scared?" Dick let out a laugh, giddy with relief. "Jazz, I have been dying inside for months. I was ready to take this to my grave!"

"Me too! I literally almost repressed myself into a coma!"

"Jesus Christ," Dick groaned, pressing his forehead to the table. "I thought I was going to break your heart."

"I thought I was going to break yours!"

They both sat there, laughing, light-headed, free.

A moment passed before Jazz smirked, leaning forward. "So. Who is it?"

Dick hesitated. And then, because there was no point in lying anymore—

"Dan."

Jazz's smirk vanished. Her eyes widened. "Wait—my Dan?"

"Uh." Dick winced. "Yeah?"

She blinked. Then blinked again. Then—

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"Oh my God, how could we not see it before?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Dick frowned. "Wait. See what? What does that mean?"

Jazz took a deep breath, and then—

"I'm in love with Jason."

It took a second for that to register.

Then—

"MY Jason?!"

Jazz shrugged, unapologetic. "Apparently."

Dick gawked at her. "No way."

"Yes Way."

"Oh my God."

"Right?!"

For a long, long moment, they just stared at each other.

And then—

They started laughing.

Deep, gut-wrenching, gasping-for-air laughing. The kind that hurt. The kind that felt like they were unraveling years of tension in one go.

"How did we not notice?" Jazz wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I have no idea!" Dick gasped. "I was so busy feeling guilty, I didn’t even think to ask why you kept getting all weird around Jason!"

"And I was so caught up in my own disaster," Jazz snorted, "I didn’t even see you staring at Dan like he personally invented the concept of breathing!"

They both dissolved into laughter again, until finally, finally, the weight of the past few months lifted completely.

Jazz leaned back in her chair, still chuckling. "So. What do we do now?"

Dick hummed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well. We could get a divorce."

"Obviously."

"And then we could—y'know. Maybe—try something else?"

Jazz smirked. "Are you asking me if we should ask each other's brothers out?"

Dick grinned. "I mean. I feel like we kinda have to at this point."

Jazz snorted. "God, we are such disasters."

"Yeah," Dick agreed, still grinning.

They clinked their coffee mugs together like it was a toast and for the first time in a while didnt feel the overwhelming weight of lying to your patner.

Somewhat Inspired by EDA's beautiful art, Thank you, @demonic0angel , for being so ridiculously creative and talented that I can’t even sit back and enjoy your work in peace.

No, instead, you had to go and make me feel creative too, and now I have the unbearable urge to post things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

IT'S BATMOMA TIME!!

As I said, Batmom promotes long hair, so the birdies use them

Duke doesn't know what's going on

c!tommy & jason todd // inconsolable similarities

@waddei on tumblr / red hood and the outlaws #09 / "grief" the devil's carnival / via @/dsmptranscripts on twitter / task force z #08 / "city of regret" by andrew kozma / @/the-overanalyst / "it has been thus" by lunarus / the boy wonder (2024) #2 / the trees witness everything by victoria chang

@prlssprfctn big help with finding comic panels thank you lovely!!!! 🫶🫶🫶

Sorry for my broken English. So I've had this thought for months at this point, just Danny being the chocolate guy from Infinite Realms, and by chocolate guy, I mean the one who makes edible sculptures out of chocolate or other things, but chocolate, after all.

Just imagine a couple of the bats who were mistakenly sent to Danny's lair and they go in and see a real-time recreation of the solar system (made of chocolate) or something.

Or maybe Danny making a themed gift for Pandora's birthday. The videos of Danny making a scale recreation of Clockwork's lair. But mostly, the fact that Danny has access to super rare ingredients due to the portals to other realities makes his creations even crazier, cooler, and with interesting effects. Imagine Constantine fighting at an auction to buy a basket of chocolate apples just because one of the ingredients in them is precisely an apple that is said to cure 99.9% of diseases for which no cure has been discovered. So many possibilities for misunderstandings and chaos right there.

(Your English is perfectly fine! The funniest part is that I think I know exactly which chocolate guy you’re talking about XD)

“And this is… made of chocolate?” Bruce asked, looking at the sculpture.

“It’s amazing,” Damian breathed.

It was an enormous sculpture of the Solar System, all floating in the air. Asteroids and space rocks were made of crystal candy, with moons being sculpted from cake and brownies. Planet rings were made from fruit and gummies all clustered together in floating circles.

Everything was beautiful and well made. Everyone looked at it in awe.

Damian was especially excited, nearly bouncing from sculpture to sculpture to see the delicately formed chocolate and candy put together into a hyper realistic rendition of the Solar System. He dragged along Stephanie with him too, looking overjoyed by everything.

Danny looked back from where he was leading them even deeper into his lair. He gave a small smile and said, “Yeah, it’s all candy and chocolate.”

Jason leaned in closer with a grin, face to face with Jupiter’s chocolate imitation.

“Is it edible?” He asked, looking ready to take a bite the moment Danny gave his confirmation.

“Not sure. I could eat it, but I made everything using the ingredients I get from the planets themselves.”

Everyone took an incredibly long step back, even Jason, his grin quickly falling off his face.

“Say again?” Stephanie asked, staring at Danny in horror.

Danny was still grinning. “Everything’s made with ingredients I procured myself, including stuff from the planets themselves.” He tilted his head and said, “I could eat it just fine, but I’m not sure if you want to eat the dust from other planets.”

Jason grimaced. “I’ll pass, thank you.”

No one wanted a bite of sulfur dioxide, methane gases, or silicon particles. Even if it was covered in chocolate.

Danny shrugged, “Your loss! Neptune’s gases tastes pretty good.”

Everyone gave each other a weary and exasperated look.

How on earth did they forget that he was a crazy space fan and a ghost?

Danny keeps on meeting Brucie Wayne at Galas when he goes to keep Sam company. He hates the man. There is no adoption, no adoption jokes, he never meets Batman. Give me Danny Fenton and his unending beef with Brucie Wayne. Bruce finds this absolutely hilarious. This feisty 14 year old is incredibly fun to antagonize.

When Tim is seven, they have a parent career day at his school. The point of the project is to showcase to other classmates, staff and the parents and families that visit what their parent or parents do for a living.

A lot of the students have businesmen for dads and stay at home mums, as typical for the high class, but not all of them do. Some are CEO’s, some own a unique company or business, or got their wealth from sports or entertainment.

For Tim, his parents have two very unique jobs even if they are technically from generational wealth, that being Drake Industries that creates medical supplies as well as funds vehicles like ambulances and fire trucks. Stuff that looks great on paper and gets them support even if the two care little for it and more for their second form of income.

Janet was more into the archeology that showed history in culture and progression of society, story telling and proof of civilisations, while Jack was far more fond of the animals that existed or still do and how they have changed.

So naturally, Tim excitedly chose to talk about their extensive work in the latter.

Janet had single handedly proved several historical theories true and false, her unrelenting determination to proving she was right and using her connections and charming nature to do so.

Jack had discovered a whole new dinosaur that he named after his wife, as well as being one of the loudest in discussion of such beings and their feathers.

Tim found he enjoyed his mother’s work most, as cool as dinosaurs were, because his mother had taught him about how ropes and cogs were once all the ‘technology’ anyone had.

So, Tim Drake set about showcasing his mums hard work and after being denied brining a rare pot she had found, he decided to make a copy of it out of clay in the schools art room. The teacher helped him with dry hands and a kind smile, excited on his behalf as he so clearly enjoyed the process and seeing how else clay crafts were used.

Tim stood proudly at his table, several paragraphs written out and printed out for people to read about his parents achievements and a diagram of the skeletal structure his father had discovered not long after Tim was born. Many people praised him, saying how well he did for such a young age, only to be even more awed when he explained he made the pot himself and it wasn’t the real deal, but a replica.

It depicted Aphrodite as she stood over roses, at the time white but some clearly darkening as the thrown cut her foot, while she made her way over to a figure that was known to be Adonis as he laid dying from a boar beside him. It looked very simpler to real Greek art, though of course a little wonky and with less dirt and ancient clay, but the pottery was exceptional by a child’s hand. Hell, even a teenager.

Tim was so very happy, waiting patiently for his parents to come and see what he had done, how he had shown everyone in his school how cool and clever they were and even made some of the olde kris look at him with jealousy, but…

They never came.

Not because they were hurt or sick or worse, dead, but because they were too tired from their trip they had gotten back from a week ago.

But Tim was a Drake, he wouldn’t show his growing anxiety and fear, instead he stood tall and spoke animatedly too anyone who would listen and avoided questions on where Janet and Jack were just like they had taught him to when pushed for sensitive information.

Tim took the pot home and Janet smiled at him, telling him it was ‘nice’.

She didn’t point out the errors or anything, said nothing bad and had no disgusted expression, she just… called it nice. And moved on.

Seven year old Tim smashed the pot against his bed room wall and cried his eyes out until he fell asleep.

When he woke up he came to a conclusion: he simply hadn’t done a good enough job and if he was more accurate, had less bumps and used more polish, he’d get a better reaction.

So that’s what he did.

The second pot got a confused brow furrow and he was asked why he was showing it again, after all they were busy people and they had already seen it?

Tim made a different one and got a similar answer to the first, though Jack did give him a pat on the head!

Tim decided to make a few, perfect his craft more, until he showed them more so he could truely wow them.

Yet a funny thing happened while he made his replica pots and bowls.

He started to have fun.

Soon it became known to the staff at his school that if you couldn’t find Timothy, he wasn’t flagging school, he was in the art room. Given he had such good grades and had plenty of friends, none of them had a problem with this as it wasn’t affecting him badly.

Tim made a mug for his art teacher that was shaped to look like a tree stump and asked for help to paint it from his friend Ives whose mother was an artist, who got tips from his mum and taught his friend how to shade and paint on canvas first.

As thanks, Tim made Ives a little clay mushroom charm that the other boy made into a bracelet.

Eventually Tim is having so much fun with his crafting he’s even having to buy creams and ointments so his hands don’t get so cracked and cry. He has a whole draw for his art clothes lest he get too many dirtied, as well as a shelf in the art room for his creations.

By the time he’s nine he hasn’t shown his parents many of his creations and while he enjoys the bits of praise he gets, the lacklustre response just bums his out, so he stops. They aren’t mad about it, nor are they really in favour of it, they just don’t seem to care all that much.

Tim knows better than to waste their time too much and just enjoys their company when he can.

When Tim becomes Robin he’s started commissions within his school and friend group, including a smoking tray for Kevin, a chess piece set for Wesley and a rose candle holder for Darla.

Ives gets the most bit that’s because he gives them to his mum as gifts.

He stops his craft while he trains, usually too tired to do so, but finds making simple vases and bowls is calming for his mind. Batman tells him he needs to have ways to detach from his night life so they don’t get too blurred, a mistake he himself made, and so Tim uses his clay craft to do that.

He makes Bruce a mug shaped like a bat for him to have in the cave and it’s the first thing that starts to break Bruce in regards to seeing Tim as more than just the new Robin.

Tim makes Alfred a kettle pot, a simple thing as it’s his first time doing so, and paints it with buttercups.

Barbara gets a big eye charm that has several little ones hanging off wires from its base. The window charm moves with her to the clock tower even years after.

He makes Dick an elephant with pink markings over it like the one he saw on the circus posters from The Flying Grayson’s. Dick still ain’t happy about there being someone in his brothers suit, not really, but he was never going to truely take that out on Tim and seeing the sweet gift left in his car makes him feel a little lighter.

It still hurts them all to see a young boy in their house that’s not Jason, but with Tim being so different they soon stop making the comparisons so much. There’s still damage down, words that will stick with Tim, but it’s not as bad.

Tim makes Cass whole collection of little things like a tiny duck and frog, as well as hats for them. He makes her a plate that’s just for her with a teddy bear curled around a heart, her initials on the back.

He makes Steph a stupidly intricately engraved brick all for the inside joke between them, but the way she cackled is well worth it.

His teammates get so many gifts he can’t count them all, though his favourite will be the mini versions of them he made and that they put as the centre piece of the towers dining table.

When Jason comes back he doesn’t make anything, not even when the misunderstandings have been cleared up. Jason openly refuses to change his violent ways even if he promises to be more friendly, but that’s not why. Tim is still so hurt at seeing his childhood hero so broken that he can’t bear to think of it, until he watches Bridgerton of all things and starts to think differently.

Tim comers how different Jason must feel and how lonely that must feel, so he makes him something special. It by all means looks like a book even it’s an all clay, though the bones and flowers over the binding give it away with their glistening. Jane Austin’s Sense and Sensibility was hard to paint, and that wasn’t never one of Tim’s strengths, so he doesn’t do the cover art and instead writes out the letters prettily and hopes it’s enough.

Jason never responds to the gift outwardly, but the way he ruffled Tim’s hair just to annoy the other tells him enough.

Duke gets three necklaces that piece together to make one big charm, blending together in a colourful spiral perfectly. One is for him, the other two for his catatonic parents. When he realises what Tim made them for her cries, hugging Tim so tightly he’s afraid he’ll pop.

Damian is the last to receive any gift, their rivalry far too strong, though it ironically Tim’s favourite.

The stump like cup has several little mushroom cups around its sides and set of dips fit for a paintbrush. Tim explains the centre is for water and the other parts made for water colour paints or even acrylic, though that will be harder to clean even with the setting spray.

Damian claims to not use it and only Alfred knows how he asks how to properly clean it without causing damage.

Tim never truely gets to show his parents his hobby, not even when his mum goes and he and his father get a little closer. It hurts him naturally, though when he spots an old high school friend at a coffee shop asking for a drink in her keep cup he made her, he decides that his city has given him what he needed. Gotham and its people, his friends and those who watched him grow up, they gave him the acknowledgment and encouragement he wanted from Jack and Janet.

It’s not perfect, his city isn’t, but neither was his first pot.

Tim doesn't know how he got here.

Sitting in Aquarium's office, holding a sniffling 4 year old little girl named ellen Nightingale on his lap with her head snuggling against his chest, nibbling on a Whale shaped cookie after all they both got lost.

He only looked away for a moment, and Bruce and the batfam dissappear on him while he was anazyling the heavier coffee choices at one of the Aquarium's coffee places.

Only to come out with a combination coffee that cost him 18 dollars more and nearly instinctly kick a teary eyed 4 year old Ellen that lost her mommy and mistook him as him, clinging to his leg out of the blue.

Apparently, Ellen got distracted by a cart vendor holding cute whale cookies while her mommy was talking to her big brother danta about not biting the birthday girl's older sister even if she being rude and now she lost, and she thought he was mummy and she doesn't know what do than the tears came.

Apparently, mommy looked like Tim only mommy had a bunch of pretty white fluffy in her hair and a lighting dancing on her face, but she extremely pretty and single to was Ellen's babbling about.

8 minutes in, a frantic pretty boy with mainly pepper flowing down salt like short hair came in, a 6 year old boy that look like him but white hair coated mainly piggybacking him that spotted him and Ellen, pointing at her.

"I found her first, i get to have The Death Pepper ice cream now!" Shriek out the 6 year old danta.

"Mommy!"

"Oh, thank ancients! Thank you for bringing her to the office here, mister..?" The supposedly Mummy glance his greenish blue baby-doll eyes at Tim, a strain of Lichtenberg figure spread upward from his neck to the forehead of his face as Ellen leaped into the arms of her mummy.

"Um- Tim Drake, and you are..?" Tim felt his face flush a bit as he stood up to shake hands with him.

"He is mummy, you dumb low-life bottom feeder!" Tiny fist waving as Danta imploded at him.

"Oh, biological speaking, yes. It's hard enough to get them to switch to Daddy, but it stuck onto me. My name is Danny Nightingale, and I appreciate that you found my little girl before I ranshake the entire aquarium like a pirate for buried treasure for her." Danny spoke softly, joking at the end, carefully holding Ellen, who snuggled her face against his chest like she did earlier with Tim.

"Yeah, she cling onto me harder than the octopus from Finding Dory when she thought I was you after I lost my own group." Tim said back, softly joking back while he sipped and choked his coffee as Ellen beamed about how Mister Tim got her two whale cookies with the blue eyes she wanted earlier and quietly failed at mumbling on can they keep him?

"Interesting.. well, she seemed attached to you, and you seem to be reliable enough to distract her from causing mayham. If you ever wanted to babysit for me, you can have my number?" Danny said, pulling out clownfish theme napkin and taking a pen from the office free pen jar.

'Wait, what?' Is what Tim thought to himself after Danny said his goodbyes, Danta sticking his tongue out, and Ellen cutely waving bye-bye as they left.

The napkin he was holding in his hand had an apartment address and a number contact along with a winking face and clumsily childish doodle of snowflakes, fire, and Dory fish next to it.

Bruce and the batfam came in the office seconds later after Tim pocket the contact info.

Might end up with a part 2. Idk yet