After The Nasty Burger Incident, Danny Went To Live With Vlad Under The Promise That He Would Change.

Who are you?

Dick was asked to pick up Damian from the dog park on his way home from Blud. When he wasn’t standing at the entrance Dick went in to go find him, stretch his legs and all. The last place he expected to find his baby brother was unconscious in the bushes. He had dark fresh bruises on his face, and Titus was nowhere in sight.

Whoever did this to his little brother will have hell to pay. That would have to come later though, the most important thing right now is getting Damian home.

Once he had the boy settled in the car he immediately calls Bruce as he starts to drive.

“Hello-“

“Bruce! Something happened at the park! I found Damian unconscious, bloody, and bruised in the bushes!” Dick struggled to hide the anger he was feeling right now. “Prep the medbay!”

Not even waiting to hear Bruce’s response he hangs up the call. Dick can’t handle a productive conversation right now, not when his brother lays silently in the backseat of his car.

It only took him a few more minutes to finally reach the manor, and when he did Bruce was already standing outside waiting for them. As soon as the car was stopped the back door was being thrown open, and Damian was being carried inside before being brought down to the cave.

Alfred, already down there, immediately went to work on patching the little boy up. At the same time Dick and Bruce discussed what the next steps will be.

About ten or so minutes pass, and in the middle of them talking another figure—and a dog—angrily enters the cave.

“Grayson!” Damian snarled, “because of you I had to call Drake to get me! What do you have to say for yourself!”

Dick was flabbergasted with what he saw in front of him, but it also provided clarity to the situation.

The boy in the bush looked exactly like Damian, yes. But the clothes he was wearing was nothing his brother would ever wear. He had old scars that didn’t match up.

Looking towards the med bay he had only one thought.

Who was the boy he found, and why did he look like Damian?

dont worry, he specializes in stem (shenanigans, tomfoolery, escapades, and mischief)

the funniest part about merlin is the fact that he’s even around for most of the show. like what the fuck is he doing there. no other person with a personal servant is tailed like arthur is. and yet nobody fucking blinks an eye at his presence.

like there are at least three separate occasions where the plot for an episode is uther sending arthur on a super secret confidential mission with the fate of the kingdom at stake, and they have a whole conversation like ‘i need you to understand the importance of the secrecy of this mission.’ ‘understood father, i will take only my most trusted men.’ ‘no arthur, you and YOU ALONE must go.’ ‘i understand.’ and then it cuts to the super secret mission and fucking merlin is just there. like. road trip with my best buddy. what a view. love this horse. like ARTHUR?

everyone always forgets he exists the second a fight happens, too. every goddamn time the knights go on a short patrol that god forbid merlin not tag along for they get attacked by bandits or whatever and merlin doesn’t even carry a fucking sword and after the fight arthur always turns around and merlin is just kinda standing there in the middle of the fight picking at a hang nail. nobody considers it wild that he’s there for all of this. the one time he actually bothered taking a sword off a dead guy to defend himself with arthur saw him holding it and he mocked it like ‘lol the fuck are you of all people gonna do with that’ THEY FULLY EXPECT HIM TO JUST STAND AND WAIT FOR THE FIGHT TO END

I really love both BabyGhost!Danny and GhostKing!Danny. Especially together. Especially if it is a crossover. Just. Outsiders, who don't know the situation, are told that The King of The Infinity is an infant. Like;

Random Ghost/Gossiper: Oh, yeah. Pariah Dark. Nah. We got a new king. King Phantom, the Infant King.

Random Crossover Gossiper: Infant King...?

Random Ghost/Gossiper: Yeah, He's a baby.

Random Crossover Gossiper: I thought the king only changed through trial by combat. And that Pariah Dark Was so powerful that even with a coup, they could only seal him in an eternal slumber?

Random Ghost/Gossiper: Oh, Yeah. It does. Some idiot woke Pariah Dark up, and King Phantom won.

Random Crossover Gossiper: But he's a baby?

Random Ghost/Gossiper: The Babbiest

Random Crossover Gossiper: ????

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh batgordon

Danny Has Bat-wings

Part 2

Clockwork would regret the day he taught Danny shapeshifting. The ancient time ghost thought it was wise to educate the prince/apprentice to change his appearance at will to better blend in when he traveled across universes.

Add that to the fact Clockwork has been very lenient with the prince and let him cross as amny universes as he desired.

Danny had learned how to make small alterations so far. He started by making himself taller than clockwork but after struggling to cope with low ceilings he stopped. He resorted to using tails and ears of many kinds. He usually took the time to study any animals he wanted to copy and use their traits after figuring out how they worked. He is still years away from a full transformation as this mentor said but he was determined to master at least one.

Danny's greatest discovery so far are wings. He made a full set of wings, bones and all. Although he hasn't figured out feathers (look they are more complex than patches of fur!) so he has bat wings.

Danny was more than proud to show them off to clockwork, practically bouncing off the walls as he darted back and forth.

"Very good Daniel." Clockwork said putting a hand on Danny's head and stopping the boy from moving. "Perhaps you can focus on learning to use your extra limbs now.."

Danny rolled his eyes. He already knew how to fly. He was literally doing it now. Is it really that hard to flap your wings?

Danny took it back, flying is hard.

He had found the rooftops of Bludhaven a good place to practice. Danny understood now why birds pushed their chicks out of the nest as he had to jump off roofs to get enough air to fly. Well, he wasn't flying, yet it was more flapping wildly until he could soften his landing.

Bat wings aren't really made to sit on your back comfortably so Danny had to wrap his wings around his body like a weighted blanket.

Danny learned quickly that dropping down alleyways and having his wings covering him caused people to panic and run. He didn't even get a chance to say sorry. Other times they attacked him calling him "The Bat" or "Batman", which is first off rude, and second, they could have at least called him a vampire or something.

News traveled quickly in Bludhaven right to Detective Grayson that Batman was in town. Which was weird because Bruce should be on a case right now. So it was Nightwing's job to see what was going on.

This "Batman" was clearly not Bruce. Any Gothemite worth their salt could tell that but the people of Bludhaven aren't familiar enough with bats. Speaking of bats, the "Batman" was more of a bat boy. Had ManBat had a kid, probably not.

The kid darted around and jumped from roof to roof with ease. After a few hours of practice, he'd wrap his wings around him and take a quick nap.

Usually, Bruce would demand a file be made on the kid and give him the 3rd degree on why he's here but this was Nightwing's territory. And he thought the kid was harmless if not a bit goofy.

Dick decided to stay quiet on this and letting Bludhaven have its own little Bat Boy. What's more entertaining to watch the kid learn to fly and failing when he tried to land.

Robin found something in the BatCave

Witness Protection

There’s a dead guy in the alley and it’s not Danny. 

Ok, technically there are two dead guys in the alley but honestly, Danny feels like they’re way past semantics.

Because, once again, there is a dead man in the alley. 

Danny is fairly sure the guy’s been murdered. The bloody mess that is the guy's chest is a pretty good indicator, but the bloody knife that's still stuck in the guy’s guts is really what makes it for the teen.

Danny might be freaking out a little bit. Because, while he is used to dead people, they’re never this newly deceased, or for that matter, this gruesomely murdered.

Before his breath can quicken too much, Danny makes himself take a deep breath. 

Say what you want about Danny, but he hasn’t spent his high-school career moonlighting as a teenage vigilante without learning a thing or two about staving off a panic attack. Feeling more calm, Danny focuses back on the issue at hand.

I should call the police, says something in the back of his head that sounds like Jazz.

If I call in the murder I’ll be on the suspect list, retorts some other part of his brain he’s choosing to call the Sam part.

No advice from an imaginary Tuck though. Even in his own mind he can’t imagine a Tucker that hasn’t already passed out cold at the sight of a dead guy. 

Which, fair. Danny is kinda considering the option, as he’s feeling a little faint himself. It is way past time he got out of here. At least he's figured out just how to do it.

Anonymous tips are a wonderful thing, made all the more wonderful by the presence of payphones in Gotham.Danny is officially handing this off to the proper authorities.

Boy is he glad he doesn’t have to be involved anymore.

A few streets over, a hooded figure rounds a corner, their breath coming fast  as they clench their bloody fists agitadely. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone there, and yet. This is an unexpected setback.

The hooded figure leans back against the alley wall to catch their breath. Nothing to do about it but fix it. And as these things go, this is an easy mistake to fix. The face of the black-haired blue-eyed hurdle floats to the front of their mind. 

It should be child’s play.

There's singing in the Wayne Manor, echoing through the halls and swirling through pillars like a choir in a cathedral. Like a bird amongst the trees.

Faint as it is from the foyer, Bruce has to strain his ears to make out the lyrics, but it is, without a doubt, singing.

He is very, very careful to slip his shoes off without making a sound. Takes extra care to not let the door slam behind him, lest he interrupt the song floating through the house and alert the source of his arrival.

Alfred has never sung in the years Bruce has known him. Not when he was a child, not as a teenager, and not now as an adult. He will play music at times -- when he's cleaning, or cooking, or doing something that doesn't require is upmost attention -- but he doesn't sing.

Besides, even if Alfred did decide to change his tune about his tunes, the voice singing like a bird up on a line is too high and young to belong to him.

So it must be Danny instead.

The door closes behind him without so much as a click, and he creeps down the hall towards the source. Naturally the closer he gets, the louder the singing becomes, and the louder it becomes, the less sure Bruce is that Danny is singing an actual song. The sound shapes the air in what he thinks may be a language -- and if it is, it's one he's unfamiliar with. It comes as a surprise to him.

He's learned many languages on his travels to become Batman, he could write entire books in a dozen different ones. He's learned languages that have nearly been lost to time and have rarely seen the written word -- and yet this, whatever the sound spilling from Danny's mouth is. He doesn't know it.

Danny's full of surprises, he's learning. A clear pond with a bottom deeper than it looks. Bruce is trying to reach that bottom.

Alfred is already there as well when Bruce finds the room Danny's in, his back to the wall and his hands resting against his cane calmly. His eyes turn to him easily, Bruce doesn't dare speak.

He does, however, dare to peek around the corner and peer into the room Danny's in -- just for a moment. Just long enough to check on him. There's been a handful of times where he's accidentally startled the boy without meaning to, and the times he hasn't, Danny's revealed to have whip sharp senses, head snapping up if he even so much as catches Bruce in his peripherals.

He's laying on the ground. Again. Feet propped up on the cushions of the sofa like he's sitting sideways.

("S'comfortable," he tells Bruce when asked, "helps me think.")

His eyes are closed, an arm thrown over his forehead, the other resting across his stomach with his cane. He's stolen one of Bruce's shirts again. He's still singing, Bruce would dare call it vocalizing, simple as that, but it sounds too much like he's trying to speak for him to suggest otherwise.

Slow and sleepy, Danny sings like he's trying to turn his voice into a flute and an old lullaby. It sinks molasses slow and mud-thick through the meat of Bruce's arms to twine around the bone, soaking into the marrow, and he sings like he's trying to wrap ribbon-thread music around Bruce's ribs like a garland.

Music is, of course, supposed to speak to you. Bruce has heard that enough times to repeat it deaf. This though, feels like Danny's trying to speak and it just happens to come out music. Vowels and consonants forming lazy like the slow pull of a river, its current meandering with the pace of a ticking clock.

Bruce once heard Alicia Walker call Danny "songbird" through the phone during one of their weekly talks, he sees why that is now.

He swears though, that Danny is trying to speak a language Bruce can't understand. The phonetics too deliberate to be otherwise, words trying to take shape that just aren't quite right. He knows, the same way he knows someone is watching him by the rise of the hair on his neck.

Danny's eyes are closed, so Bruce lets himself slip out fully from behind the wall, and leans against the doorframe. Just to listen, and decipher what it is that Danny's trying to say.

Safe to say, he doesn't figure it out when Danny finally stops. He's sure that his voice has thoroughly sunken into the stones of the manor, and the only way Bruce could get it out is if he wrung it out. He will not.

"I've never heard that language before." He says quietly, before the air can fully settle and the thick melody thins.

He can feel Alfred's eyes burning holes into his temple as Danny full body flinches and jerks like a fish out of water. Ah, whoops.

Danny's head whips around to him with a wide blown look. Hair falls over his face, messy from the rug and curling around the ends. "Uh--I--" he stammers, Bruce waits for him to find his tongue, "I- uh-- I'd be, uh, surprised if you did."

Bruce pushes himself off the frame, lets his arms drop to his sides. "What was it?"

Danny turns his gaze to the rug, ducks his head as his shoulders curl up. Bruce recognizes the response, it reminds him of a turtle retreating into its shell, or a clam trying to hide.

"Just, just something I learned as a kid."

DcxDp idea. Lil plot bunny.

Talia is on a mission in Illinois when she finds a kid holding his own against a large group of much older guys with guns.

She can tell the kid isn’t trained but has great potential, but that’s not all she spots. The kid bares a sticking resemblance to her beloved and her very own son.

So she takes what is going to be hers. Better than the kid dying here and wasting that potential. Plus her own son(I’m thinking Dami is about the same age as Danny here) needs more social interaction.

This leads to her just snatching this kid, taking him home with her and raising him just as she would Damien.

Idk just can’t stop thinking about Talia looking at a little baby Danny fighting GIW and thinking that he is meant to be hers.