Billy’s Greatest Embarrassment

Vlad is dragging Danny along on a "Field Trip".

Basically, Vlad's doing a favor for one of his creepy billionaire friends, and he's dragging Danny along with him. Something about said money-buddy needing help with a cloning project.

Danny, naturally, decides to be as inconsiderate as he possibly can, because fuck Vlad, and fuck Lex Luthor too.

He sneaks away and manages to phase through a few walls, accidentally finding Luthor's evil secret lair. Danny is...not surprised at all.

Instead of wasting time going 'oh noooooo how could this beeee', he gets to work on destroying as much as he can. While invisible, of course.

Then, naturally, he triggers an experimental weapon in one of the rooms.

It goes off.

Danny shrinks.

Danny looks in a mirror.

He looks like he's fucking ten. His clothes no longer fit, and Danny prioritizes finding something to wear that might fit. All he can find are weird white-gray jumpsuits, though. Fine. Whatever.

He's just finished putting it on when the door is punched out of it's frame, scaring Danny enough that he jumps a foot in the air and stays there.

An...older teen? Young adult? Superboy, right, he calls himself Superboy. The leather jacket one that should probably get the "boy" out of his name, not the actual kid.

Super(not)boy stares at Danny, eyes wide and mouth open.

Danny can smell trouble coming from a mile away, and he knows that whatever is about to happen, he wants no part of it.

"Uh, uh-Superma-?" Superboy starts, but Danny isn't having it.

"Fuck you!" Danny shouts, landing on the ground, throwing the nearest table, and tries to turn to phase through the wall behind him.

Except he doesn't, because the second he touches the ground he's grabbed and held in place by tactile telekinesis.

He would know what that feels like; he has tactile telekinesis. Tactile telekinesis that he's currently using to try to peel Superboy's sticky tactile telekinetic fingers off of him so he can go.

"Okay, maybe we should chill out," Superboy says, walking forward and trying to look nonthreatening.

"...Actually, that's a great idea," Danny concedes, abruptly freezing the floor beneath Superboy's feet.

Superboy floats to get off the ice, the telekinetic grip is released, and Danny uses that opportunity to...turn and run straight into Superman's chest.

Superman does not look happy. Superman is wearing the same look mom does when she finds out he failed a test.

Danny is, wisely, a little more scared of Superman than Superboy.

"I can explain," Danny starts.

"Start with where you learned that language," Superman advises, crossing his arms. "Clone or not, I will clean your mouth out with soap if I have to."

---

Back again with Danny being adopted by other batfam members.

But this time I thought of the absolute comedy of Damian, tiny squirt and five apples tall, deciding that he is now a father to a grown ass teenage Danny.

It was an accident and had never been his intention to adopt another being.

But it had been placed into Damian’s head that in order to be a potential Batman he had to have his own Robin. And the only way to have his own Robin was to have a child, similar to the way that Father would pick up the various children and teenagers amongst them.

Damain had a very specific list of requirements for his potential child-Robin. Danny did not meet any of those requirements, and yet here Damian was having forged papers for the now Daniel Al Ghul-Wayne, and beginning the treacherous affair of introducing his son to the family.

Danny twisted his new shirt sleeve with a frown. It was a nice green silk that complimented the little green that resided in his son’s eyes. Damian wished to bring out the many carefully crafted features of Danny that could match to Damian. Having his eyes pop, wild hair brushed and losing the battle to nervous hands, would have to do.

At least until Damian taught Danny his mother tongue and began the care of his culture and soon to be heritage.

---

No one expected Tim to be the first of rhe batkids to adopt a child. Especially Tim Drake-Wayne himself. But what else was he supposed to do when the strange glowing ferret-worm thing eating his Death wish coffee grounds turned into a confused, and now hyper, five year old boy?

Well he did after he was done freaking out over a meta child eating Death Wish Coffee grounds.

dc x dp group chat shenanigans

So basically, Dick makes a group chat for the minorities in the family because sometimes Bruce just doesn’t get it you know?

And Danny? Started going to school in Gotham. That’s it.

Dick created a group chat.

Dick renamed the group chat “The Minority Chat”

Dick: Okay everyone, if you don’t have a reason to stay, leave.

Dick: Nobody left.

Tim: Well yeah, Dick. All of us are minorities.

Damian: Yes, I have to agree with Drake. For example, I am half Arabic.

Duke: I’m black.

Cass: …

Babs: I’m disabled.

Steph: Teen pregnancy.

Tim: RAMCOA

Dick: Well what about you Jason?

Jason: I fucking died bro.

Dick renamed the group chat “Sib Chat”

This group chat went on to become the best way for them to vent to each other about Bruce and share memes to each other. They also sometimes randomly kick someone out so the others can stalk them. This time it was Damian’s turn.

Duke has removed Damian from “Sib Chat”

Duke: Guys I just saw the weirdest shit on patrol today.

Cass: ?

Babs: With Damian? He’s meant to be at school today.

Tim: He’s there, his tracker hasn’t moved locations.

Steph: When did you sneak a tracker onto Damian?

Tim: Don’t worry about it.

Duke: Don’t worry he is at school. But get this. I saw him eating his lunch outside. And he was talking to someone. AND SMILING.

Cass: 😮

Tim: Was it his “I’m gonna kill this guy while he’s sleeping” smile?

Duke: NO

Tim: Oh shit

Babs: Did you see who it was? I can run a background check.

Duke: No. But I will keep you posted. Where are Jason and Dick btw?

Babs: Dick is sleeping and Jason got shot.

Duke: Oh okay. Don’t let him administer his own Dilaudid.

Babs: Trust me, I won’t.

A few weeks later

Duke has removed Damian from “Sib Chat”

Babs: Please tell me you got info

Duke: I do. And it’s weird

Jason: Don’t tell me Dami got a SO and didn’t tell me?!

Duke: God I hope not.

Cass: ???

Steph: Spill the tea macho man

Duke: Recognized the backpack from last time. I saw the kid Dami was all smiley with at a coffee shop and I shit you not, he looks like if Damian was white.

Jason: The fuck does that mean?

Duke: IM TELLING YOU! He was Damian but white!

Steph: What would that even look like?

Cass: 🤔

Jason: I’ll believe it when I see it.

6 hours later after dark

Jason: Holy shit you were right.

Duke: YOU SAW HIM TOO?!

Jason: That was terrifying.

Dick: Wait this isn’t a joke? I thought Duke was pulling our leg-

Damian: What are you two rambling on about?

Tim: Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Damian: I do not believe you.

Cass: …

Damian: Fine. I will not interrogate you all. I am going to get ready for patrol anyways.

Dick has removed Damian from “Sib Chat”

Dick: I wasn’t paying attention until now so you all better tell me everything.

---

Part 6 of the batburger saga

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64/64 bat burgers eaten and that wraps up the batburger saga! Can’t wait for exams to hit me over the head with a steel chair!

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Jason never did find out where the burgers came from.

Dick can not in fact prove that Danny has done anything wrong ever in his (after) life. Not that Danny HAS done anything wrong (don’t worry about the prison breaks and the murders)

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So I’m doing a villain storyline next so y’all are going to have to choose who you want to see next!

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Master list lPart 5

Ghost of a Chance

Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.

Or something very much like one.

It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.

The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.

"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.

The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.

Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.

And always too thin.

It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.

Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.

And so began his campaign.

At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.

Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:

“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”

He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.

Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.

Then came the night it changed.

A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.

He left the beacon on the rooftop.

“Help him. Please. –A.P.”

Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.

“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”

“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”

“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.

“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.

“…Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”

Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.

“Danny. My name’s Danny.”

“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”

I’ve seen that future…

If you had told Danny that joining the justice league would mean getting up at the ass crack of dawn to go to some stupid meeting, he never would have joined. Well that not fully true but he might have agreed to have a Zata tube installed in Amity. Even with how much he hates those things it still seems like a better idea now that he is flying through space trying to catch up with this stupid satellite. He was already late thanks to Skulker, which means he missed his perfectly times window to catch the watchtower in orbit so now he’s here playing catch up.

He didn’t even bother to slow down from his Mach 20 pace when he reached it. Just turned intangible and shot through the window into the meeting room. He was expecting to get scolded for being late. Or for his dramatic entrance but he was not expecting the other members to not notice him at all on account of them arguing.

Taking the golden opportunity to get out of a scolding, (he did not want to be the victim of another bat glare) he kept he’s mouth shut and floated down to Hal. Who seemed to be sulking off to the side of the fight. “Dude, what’s gonna on?”

“Batman,” the name was spat like a curse. “Had plans on how to take us all out.” Hal waved to the screen before him, inviting Danny to look.

“Really?” He floated to the screen, seeing files with each leaguer’s name. After a moment of hesitation, he clicked on his own.

“Yeah! Can you fucking believe this?” Hal growled out. “He planned on how to kill us all and is now acting like we’re the unreasonable ones.” Danny would normally be shaken by Hal’s anger. The guy so rarely got truly anger that it startled Danny every time. In that moment however he couldn’t bring his attention way from the screen. It was a decent plan. Risky, unlikely to work but decent. The fact Batman did this at all though. “You think you know a guy, right? Phantom?” Hal asked when he saw the ghost wasn’t responding to him.

Before he could continue his questioning Phantom shot off across the room. All leaguers that could keep up with the ghost speed braces from a fight when they saw him heading straight for Batman. They were anger with him yeah but they didn’t want him dead. They all knew Phantom was physically capable of doing that and had only seen him fly this fast in battle.

Their concern turned to confusion however when Danny stopped dead still just before the dark knight. Looking the man over before reaching to the side, Danny’s hand disappearing into a green vortex that appeared out of thin air. When he pulled back, a small metal box, no bigger than a watch box, laid in his hand as he presented it to Batman.

“This is a blood blossom.” The soft words cut through the tense silence. “It is one of, no it is the only thing that can kill me. For good.” Batman looked at the box, then at the boy. Determination sat on his brows despite the tired sadness that coloured his eyes. “If I…” His eyes broke away from the white lenses. “If I go bad. Please. I understand you don’t want to kill. So please, give this to someone who will kill me.”

No one moved for a moment as they processed the request. Emotions shifting wildly in them all. Superman’s landing on anger. “Why would you give him that?!” He stepped forward. “He already plans to kill us all why would you give him that?!”

“Because I’ve seen that future.” The conference was stated plainly. Melancholy waiting down on the boy as he turn to the others. “The realms are different than here.” His trembled. “Time works differently. You can walk into tomorrow and run into yesterday. Every possibly future exists within the realms.”

He scanned each heroes face as his voice harden. “I’ve seen what happens. I know what happens if I turn.” Danny took a deep breath as he met superman’s eyes. Gazing at him with eyes that saw more than what was in front of him. “I killed you first Clark.” It was stated as fact. Non of them could bring themselves to doubt him. “Then Diana. Then Hal. One by one each one of you were killed… by me.”

His breath came out frosted, his emotions making it hard to keep from freezing the watchtower as he turned back to Batman. “You survived the longest. Out of everyone here you got the closest to stopping me. In that reality however, you didn’t know about ghost. Didn’t know how to fight me.” He held out the box again. “Please, I can’t let that future happen.”

Everyone was stunned. Watching in silent shock as the horror of what Phantom said sunk in. Batman recovers quickest, slowly reaching out to grab that box which he now identified as being made of lead.

“Thank you Phantom.” There was more to those words than what it may appear. A silent reassess that the ghost picked up on.

I also did this. Apollo’s forgot about the loophole.

My girl Cassandra deserved a better fate. Let her be one of the Ithacan sisters.

Galas, trash talking and that guy that I don’t want to talk to

Danny, Sam and Tucker were standing close to the wall, silently judging people on the Gala. Wayne gala. One of the most prestigious, Well-known and terribly boring event in high society. How did they get there? Enter Rich-ass Sam’s parents and rich-ass fruitloop. The only consolation was them dragging Tucker with them. And The only way to made them behave, apparently. The list of pranks they prepared was impressivly long. But… a deal was a deal. So no pranks. Only them isolating themselves and trash talking in fancy suits other attendants in fancy suits. Fantastic.

-I can bet 10 bucks that this lady in shiny red dress will flirt with Wayne again. - That was Tucker.

- psh too easy that is obvious.- Sam grumbled.

-But she already tried like Three times. I Think it would be a streach. No way she has that little of self respect. You are on.- Danny countered.

-oh poor naive Danny. You lack experience in those matters. Believe me when I say she WILL try again. - And true to Sam’s words the lady tried. Swiftly ignored by organisator of this glorious event. Danny groaned and handed money to Tucker. That was how last two hours had gone by. They already gone thorough all apetizers. After, four attempts to get their hands on alcohol were stopped by staff they give up. They strolled through garden or rather the part that was open, and been to the toilet at least five times. So boredom. Utter boredom.

Danny let his eyes wander through the crowd. He was able to see Vlad persuading some poor businessman into very shady and probably disandventageous deal. Or meeting one on one, where he would just overshadow him and sign the documents. Both were shitty options.

There were times that Danny tried to sabotage Vlad deals but adults tended to ignore warnings from teenagers. So he got fed up with being ignored. Some things are unstoppable. He can fight super-powered king of undead but he can’t talk out an adult from trusting his psycho pseudo-uncle. So no intervention here. He let himself look again, suprisingly he caught eye contact with other teen. Black haired, blue eyed around their age probably slightly older. He started to move towards them.

-carefull some rich kid on the way. -he warned while keeping him in his vision. Both his friends heads snapped too look.

-Dude that is not SOME rich kid that Timothy Drake-Wayne! How could you not recognise him. - Tucker gushed

-Uh, sorry that I don’t know all celebrities. Lately I have been busy fighting ghosts and interdimentional tresspasers if you hadn’t noticed.- Danny hissed back. Sam rolled her eyes, whispering:

- Calm down, just remember that he is adopted son of Bruce Wayne. The one involved in technology.

Danny didn’t get the chance to answer before object of their conversation came to them.

-Hello, Timothy Drake-Wayne, Having fun?

The silence was uncomfortable. Sam got herself together the fastest:

- Of course Mr Drake, amazing event beautifull decorations!

Danny eyed her weirdly. Who could guess she could be such a good lier? He could pick on subtle sarcasm there but only because he knew her. For anyone else she sounded perfectly genuine and honest. He held back a laugh. He loved her so much.

-Tim is fine, I am already Mister in too many places. At the end I am only two years older Lady Samantha. - he answered flashing a smile at her. Huh. That was weird. Danny was not a mood reader but he got a distinct feeling he tried to subtly suck up to them. What a son of multimillionaire could want from them?

-It’s amazing to meet you in person Tim, I am Tucker! I love your work in IT, your new design of pada is fantastic. The outer layer of inside mechanisem is….

Tucker could talk about technology for hours. He knew this particular rant by heart so he let himself focus on Tim. He listened to Tucker and nodded in right places but didn’t seem really interested. However, What he did do was subtly glancing in Danny’s direction quite often. He let his senses wander and focused on newcomer. Tim smelled of expensive perfume, sweat and… suprisingly blood. Quite a lot of blood if Danny was being honest. Apart from that he could taste his determination and growing irritation the longer Tucker spoke. Well not Danny’s problem he can get bored and piss off. He will gladly come back to trash talking other guests now thank you very much.

- So Daniel, I have seen you on few other events but I havent had occasion to talk to you!- that was what brought Danny’s attention back to earth.

-It’s Danny - he corrected out of habit. Sam casted him murderous glare.

-Uh… nice to meet you. - the silence that lasted longer than socialy acceptable was akward. Ancients, Danny hated it so much. He wasn’t really fan of small talk with people he didn’t know. Or generally social interactions but here he is.

- Sooo did you took part in preparations to Gala or is it only your father this time?- Sam tried to save the situation.

- No this time is Bruce and Richard work. So Danny are you involved in your uncle business? Bruce and I had a very interesting conversation about possible deal and wanted to talk a little more about it.

Huh. So this was scouting business. No way Vlad would leave his talks unfinished or without any date to discuss it further. He would also not allow Danny involvement in any way. Not after that one fiasco. So Tim was bullshiting. Well that just rised Danny’s opinion about him from 0 to like 20 on scale 1 to 100. He does not deliberately plan to sabotage Vlad business anymore. But if some guy with heart screwed on comes to him Well…

- Whatever he says I advise to not associate with him. Better to ghost him. if you do actually decide that you must do business with him do not and I can’t stress it enough stay with him one on one in a room. - Danny States calm and even. He Made sure that his eyes were serious and didn’t break eye contact for a moment.

That was a time when Vlad came up to them. Out of breah and slightly dishelved. Obviously he panicked when he saw Tim with them. Danny smirked. Vlad glared.

- Daniel it is time for us to go. Samantha your parents are looking for you and your friend. Mr Drake pardon us we are in a hurry.

-Of course UNCLE.- He smiled inconently.

-bye Tim, Sam, Tucker- he said while looking over his shoulder. His eyes were drilled in Tim’s.

There was something unnerving about Danny’s eyes- Thought Tim.

It is just a thought that I had during my Ester Breakfast when I looked at those fancy silverware that me and my family takę out on christmas and Ester. So yes quick drabble. I have no idea if I will continue or not but I had fun writing it SO here it is.

Robin found something in the BatCave