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Euripides (Tr. Anne Carson) / @wholeheartedsuggestions / Jenny Slate / Euripides again
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hi i think youre scary wanna kiss
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"Hi, damian." He's smiling bright, leaning against the cell bars all casual.
The wayne glares at him.
"We have a project, fenton."
"We do."
Another moment and the police officer shoves damian into the cell, the same on danny is in.
"I expect nothing but a 100% at the end."
Danny mock salutes. "Yes sir."
"Good. Let's break out and get started, fenton."
—
When you find out the assigned project is one that needs to be done with two people? Damian was already.preparing himself for doing the entirety of it alone.
Get the only other smartass of his class as his partner? He saw hope.
That is until danny fenton is late to their meeting, comes out he got arrested. Now what's damian to do in the most civilian fashion?
He gets arrested too.
They're gone from their cell in less than 15 min.
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Danny's ghost side is bleeding over to his living side. With Danny becoming more and more ghostly, he's come across a problem he did not foresee being one.
Ghosts form based on how they feel, on what is Right for them.
Danny, a trans teenager who definitely hasn't gotten any surgeries or even started HRT (he's nervous, okay?! What if male pattern baldness runs in his dad or mom's family and he's the one who gets it, huh?!), wakes up to find that he no longer has tits.
Also, he's starting to grow scruff on his face.
But his fully supportive parents have no idea.
It is, Danny thinks, the strangest thing in the world to wear a binder with nothing for it to bind, or to hide shaving cream and razers in his backpack to shave his face in secret.
Which is why he has no idea how to explain himself when his mom walks in while he's shirtless and tossing the binder on the bed.
She stares at him.
He stares at her.
She narrows her eyes.
He starts to sweat.
She crosses her arms.
"Ghosts did it," Danny blurts, unthinking.
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The Post You couldn’t find:
Scary boyfriend privilege? No. Scary sons privilege.
Bruce who can’t go anywhere without his newly adopted ward. He follows Bruce like a sunny shadow, grin always in place.
“Dick, can I hold your hand when we cross the street?”
Dick, very sweetly, “No.”
Bruce sighs, but accepts easily. Some guy scoffs at that and asks Bruce if he’ll let his kid just talk to him like that. His kid. His heart hurts in a very good way.
He’s about to say something, but Dick interrupts him, his teeth bared full, “Weren’t you on the news for hitting an old lady with your car?”
Bruce freezing. Dick goes back to his gameboy. They hold hands when they cross the street.
It’s both scary and comforting how little he changes when he’s an adult.
Jason, on the other hand.
Although he refuses to admit it, he does follow Bruce around, too, when his dad actually has to leave the manor. It’s when Alfred says he needs sun.
“You signed a contract, sir.”
Bruce sighing, “I signed it when I was 4. In black crayon. Those don’t count.”
Damian gasped, as if discovering a vile fact, sending an accusing glare Bruce’s way. “They don’t?”
Bruce needs an excuse to haul ass fast and that’s how Jason ends up chaperoning his socially awkward, disaster of a father in his quest to pick up food.
He’s a titanic presence next to Bruce, glaring off whoever stares a little too long or too appreciatively, strong arms crossed and his eyes hard and sharp.
Bruce gently taps his bicep and he hates the way he melts. “Do you want the chicken nuggets with or without apple slices?”
“Without.”
“Jay.”
“FINE.”
Give Jason his “he asked for No pickles” moment. It has to embarrass Bruce enough to jump in traffic, thought.
Damian has his own league and none of them can really compete with it. I think, during parent’s night, he drags Bruce off to proudly showcase his gallery of portraits.
Bruce is very moved when he realizes they’re almost all him.
There’s portraits of Dick, too, and Alfred, and a comically bad one of Tim. “Damian, they’re very beautiful. Thank you.”
“I painted them with the blood of your enemies.”
“…Thank you.”
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Danny holding a glowing jar: What is this? Clockwork: Oh, that's some human soul I won in a poker game with a few demons. Danny:A human soul? What the hell did you bet that was the same value as a human soul? Clockwork: Your hand in marriage Danny: I BEG YOU FINEST PARDON?! Clockwork: Relax, I won, didn't I? Now I have a neat soul in a jar. Danny: Who does this even belong to? Clockwork:A child. Danny: .....you're giving this back. Clockwork: What? Why? The child wasn't even using it. Danny: I'm taking the soul back. What's the child's name? Clockwork: *Sigh* Fine, ruin my fun. The boy is called Subject 514A. Danny: What kind of name is that? Clockwork: He's a clone of another human child that was experimented on and was never given a personal name. Hence, Subject 514A. His body is currently deteriorating as we speak. If he stays in his current dimension, Death will claim him. Danny: WHAT!? We got to do something! Clockwork: I can't in his current dimension. Death has jurisdiction there as Fate has set that child's life to end. Danny: .....you set this jar out to appeal to my Savior complex and help you get back at Death and Fate didn't you? Clockwork: I KNOW THOSE TWO CHEATED AT CARDS! So I figured stealing one of their little humans and moving him into a nearby dimension a few years ahead would drive them up a wall. They have no power there since the timeline is my jurisdiction! Danny: And I wouldn't let anything happen to Subject 514A, meaning that the world would accommodate the Ghost King and the child under his care. You're using me a pawn in your petty game. Clockwork: You're still going to take that boy and raise him. Danny: Yeah, because I have the body to be a perfect DILF, but that's beside the point! I mean if he's a clone would the orginal be in the new dimension? Clockwork: Yes, but Bruce Wayne would be a full-grown adult with multiple children of his own instead of a sixteen-year-old adolescent like Subject 514A. Danny: Great, a teenager in angst. why not. Clockwork watching Danny leave through a portal to grab his new son: All according to plan. Soon, Wayne will assume Danny is raising his unknown, ill son, and my ship will sail once they get to know each other. he ha he ha he ha.
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Jason: Due to the nature of my vocabulary, many of you have expressed concern that I might receive consequences enforced by a certain Bat.
Jason: *glares at Bruce*
Jason: However, I can assure you I am perfectly safe, because what’s he going to do? Ground me? He already let me die once, I just crawled right back again.
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Something that will never not be funny to me is how in almost every fic I read which is Tim Drake centric, he /always/ loses his spleen. No matter if he’s a civilian in a coffee shop or a villain or any other au, there’s always some event that sneaks it in in fics.
‘DC stands for disregard canon but this one lil guy lost an organ and he has forever lost that privilege :/‘
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because i’m curious
^ for reference
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I think Alfred needs his own prompt 👻(dp x dc)
Alfred had died.
(It was a bit of a waste of time— he'd been scheduled to get the boys to and from their suit fitting at this time. Now here he was; languishing. Murdered. Sulking, even.)
(How frivolous.)
As a busy man with children (an adult child) to care for, a house to maintain, and a budget to supervise, Alfred's main goal was to return to Earth, obviously. If he left Master Bruce in charge of the dusting, the man would absolutely let the unused parts of the house go into disrepair. Too impatient, his ex-ward was.
The only problem was that in this green, nebulous, and gravity-free afterlife, there seemed to be only one way out— navigating through the individual worlds that the denizens of this world have molded around themselves, until he finds a being willing to grant his wish to return.
Alfred sighed, checked for the pistol at his hip and the rifle on his back, and marched straight upwards. Or. Well. Downwards. Actually... Never mind.
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Posting this everywhere til im not obsessed with it anymore
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In which; the Bats and Birds are looking into Vlad Masters as he is a very new and suspicious figure in the elites. Bruce Wayne meets someone he didn't account for; Masters' God son, coincidentally the only survivor of an accident that took the lives of his family.
Vlad sells a pity party to 'Brucie' Wayne, and invites him over for dinner with his children, boasting about his godson's cooking skills.
The meal was pleasant.
The meat was unfamiliar.
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Danny: Jason, we talked about this Jason: Get out of the way Danny. I need to do this Danny: No. Jason this isn't you Jason: Bruce needs to learn that kids don't belong on the feild! Danny: Don't make me go nuclear Jason. Jason: Do your worst- Danny: Jason Todd, you're just like your father. Getting angry and beating a child. Jason: .... Danny: .... Jason: That was messed up Danny Tim: It really was Danny.I mean, thank you for stopping him from attacking me but damn.
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DC x DP Prompt: Bruce is bad at emoting but at least ghosts are empathic (too bad bat kids are not)
Was reading Twincognito on AO3 when I stumbled across this gem again:
~
" “Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.
They glanced at each other and shrugged.
Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.
Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face. "
~
Now I really want to read a story where Bruce adopts Danny post Meta trafficking and is being his usual emotionally constipated self. His kids keep getting mad at him because he's treating their new meta brother who was trafficked poorly (generally being stilted in conversation with him, walking away hurriedly mid-conversation, avoiding Danny when he's feeling really awkward, etc). They think Bruce is discriminating against Danny for being a civilian, meta, dealer's pick, but really it's just Bruce being horribly socially awkward. Danny knows this because of ghost empathy and find the whole thing hilarious. The whole thing comes to a head with the Bat Kids staging an intervention in the Bat Cave.
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the lost brother - damian
There is static in his ears.
There is a baby in his arms.
His niece. His niece from a brother dead before he was born. The daughter of Danyal, his mother's greatest regret, the ghost haunting his childhood, the brother he never got to have.
She is so small in his arms. Still. Quiet.
It frightens him, cradling such a fragile life in his arms. He's not good with most people, let alone a baby.
Danyal must have been truly desperate to leave her with him.
"Robin."
The voice makes the world come rushing back into place. Damian moves before he thinks, turning his body to shield his niece from danger, but it's only Red Robin standing before him. He stares, wide eyed, until Red Robin pushes his cowl back and Drake stands before him, expression carefully neutral. He doesn't look at the baby in Damian's arms. He only looks at Damian.
"Robin, come on. The Batmobile is right below us."
Damian hesitates, then follows Drake to the edge of the roof. He takes the fire escape down, landing carefully so he doesn't jostle the baby in his arms, and Drake grapples down a moment later, carefully maintaining the distance between them.
He knows it's to keep Damian from feeling trapped, and he's stupidly grateful, though he'll never say so.
The rest of the family will be a pain to deal with. They will demand answers he doesn't have, invade his space, insist on taking his niece from him. At least Drake is quiet and willing to observe without interference beyond getting them all home.
As promised, the Batmobile waits for them in the alley. Drake holds the door open and Damian slides in, adjusting his niece to make sure she's comfortable. She blinks up at him with dark blue eyes.
How strange. He had expected them to be green.
Drake drives them, speaking in short bursts into his comm. Damian brings a hand up to his own, realising rather belatedly that it's muted. Oracle must have grown annoyed at the barage of questions heading his way and silenced them for him.
He'll have to thank her later, once things have settled down.
For now, all his attention is on his little baby niece. What did Danyal say her name was?
Ellie.
Ellie Ellie Ellie.
She reaches up with a small hand, curious, and Damian offers a finger for her to latch on to. Her grip isn't strong, and her hand is small and barely warm.
He holds her closer for the rest of the ride home.
Father wants to take Ellie away for tests. Damian refuses to let go of her, going as far as leveling a sword at anyone who tries.
Drake is the only one who offers to only draw the barest minimum amount of blood for a DNA test, all while Damian holds her.
This, he accepts.
The others hover in his periphery, muttering amongst themselves, but Damian cares little for their thoughts and judgements. He was given Ellie for the sole purpose of caring for her. He will not fail in his duty. If it comes to it that he has to hide away with Mother for the rest of them to calm down, then he will. Surely she'll want to be involved with her granddaughter.
He'll have to tell her about Danyal, anyways.
Father stays at the computer, watching as the results load. He does not look away from the screen to even greet Ellie.
Damian pushes down his bitterness. He knows well the kind of man Father is, now. This is expected of him.
It's Richard that stays by him, hurrying across the Cave with an armful of diapers and baby clothes.
"I wasn't sure what to get, so I got a bit of everything," he explains, setting everything down on the cot where Damian sits with Ellie. Richard cut his patrol short as soon as Danyal left and made an emergency run to the nearest store with baby supplies, pulling sweatpants and a jacket over his Nightwing suit. The collar of the suit peeks out from beneath his jacket, and Damian is sure that it's only the late hour that kept anyone from asking too many questions while Richard was shopping.
"Thank you," Damian mutters. He sets Ellie down carefully, and she blinks up at him with tired eyes. Her face is round with baby fat, but not by much. "How do I…?"
"I think I know how to change a diaper," Richard offers, already pulling a fresh one out of the pack. He gets a small pack of baby wipes out of his pocket and quickly undoes the diaper on Ellie, wiping her down. Damian watches carefully, committing each step to memory as Richard changes her diaper and makes sure she's comfortable.
They're all out of their depths, Damian realizes. Have any of them actually cared for a baby? Pennyworth might have had some idea, and though he died a few years ago, the loss of him aches sharply even now.
"We'll have to figure out how old she is before we get any food for her," Richard murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger against her cheek. His eyes are soft, sad, and Damian lets out a slow breath, relived to know he can trust Richard with Ellie. "What happened?"
It's the question everyone's been asking him, and Damian has refused to answer each time.
But he will answer Richard.
"I saw a person on the edge of the roof as I patrolled. I went down to bring them to safety. He was… I had an older brother who died before I was born. But I know what he looks like. It was him, on that roof."
"You think he came back to life?"
"He must have. He was placed in a Lazarus Pit, but Mother said it didn't bring him back. Perhaps it just took time."
"What made you think it was him, if you've never met him?"
Damian thinks back. The man on the roof was a few years older than Drake, thin and worn-down. His eyes caught Damian's attention first; al Ghul's have very distinctive eyes, and it seems they both inherited that trait from Mother. Beyond that…
Lazarus Pits have magic in them. They wouldn't be able to do what they did without it. Those revived by Lazarus Pits carry some of it with them; it's not Pit Rage, which fades within an hour, but something else that leaves them on the boundary of inhuman. Damian grew up around the Pits and people who used them. He knows what the magic of the Pits feels like, and he could feel it in Danyal.
"I just knew," Damian answers. "Should Mother ever meet him, she'll be able to tell you the same thing: that was Danyal. And this is his daughter."
"Do you know why he left his daughter with you?"
"He asked if Batman was a good father. If I was safe here. Only then did he give Ellie to me."
"He could have stayed to," Richard says, sadness coloring his tone.
Damian doesn't respond. What could he say? Yes, Danyal could have stayed and joined them. He chose not to, for whatever reason. They have not found him yet, and Damian doubts they will find him any time soon.
Danyal is the first son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne. He will not be found until he wants to be.
Damian will have to wait until then.
The DNA results come back after eight rounds of testing.
Ellie is indeed Damian's niece.
The closest matches to her in the database are Damian and Bruce, which all but confirms that Danyal is indeed the first blood son of the Bat.
Father stares down at Ellie with an unreadable look on his face. He doesn't try to hold her; Damian doesn't know if he should be grateful for this or not.
"I have another son," he says. "And neither you nor your mother ever told me."
"He was dead," Damian answers, "What use would a dead child be to you? Even I never met him until tonight. He was gone long before I was born."
"He's still my son!"
"He's a stranger," Damian bites back. "Why do you pretend to care now? He has never been a part of our lives before. You won't even hold his daughter."
Father flinches back, just slightly, but it's enough to know that the barb hit. Damian gathers Ellie up into his arms and heads for the stairs. "I will be going to sleep now. Ellie will stay with me. You are welcome to stay down here to search for Danyal, or you can get some rest to join me in shopping for Ellie. I will call Mother. Good night."
The others don't have the decency to wait until he's completely out of the Cave before they begin shouting amongst themselves. Damian clicks his tongue and looks down at Ellie, who's sleeping peacefully.
"Let's hope you grow up to have more sense than them," he says to her.
He lays her on top of the blankets, then curls up next to her. It's a long time before he's able to fall asleep.
Mother calls first thing in the morning. Damian's barely had time to brush his teeth before his phone is ringing, and he has to rush to catch it before the call ends.
"Is it true?" she demands as soon as he answers, "Was it Danyal?"
Damian bites back a curse. He said he'd call her. It would have been best if he had been the one to break the news, rather than anyone else, but it doesn't surprise him that no one listened.
"It's true," he says. "Danyal was in Gotham last night. He left his daughter in my care before disappearing. I was unable to speak to him more."
"How can that be," she says, breathless, "It's been decades since his death. The Lazarus Pit never returned him to me."
"It was him. That's all I know."
There's a pause as his mother gathers her composure. Then she says, "I will be in Gotham in a week. I will not be kept out of my granddaughter's life."
"I will make sure we have a room ready for you."
"Good. Take care, habibi."
The call ends without any other fanfare. Damian drops his head with a sigh and tosses his phone back onto his desk.
On his bed, Ellie is sitting up, watching him curiously.
"You and your father have caused a lot of trouble already," he tells her, and she claps her hands together.
When he goes downstairs, he immediately makes note of Drake and Brown's presence with displeasure. His hopes for a quiet morning are dashed before he even reached the kitchen.
"There you are!" Brown says far too loudly. She bounds up to him, ignoring his scowl, and peers at Ellie. "Hm, I'd guess around nine to eleven months, accounting for FTT and some malnutrition."
"FTT?" he repeats.
"Failure to thrive. If infants aren't care for properly, which includes cuddling, then they just… don't grow as they should. They end up smaller and weaker than is expected for their age."
"I imagine she was not taken care of properly, wherever she was before. She wouldn't have been left with me otherwise."
Brown looks troubled, but she blinks it away and smiles when Ellie reaches up to grab at her nose. "Hello there," she says in a soft voice, "I'm your favorite aunt. Don't forget that, alright! I'm your favorite."
Damian pushes her away. "She has no favorites."
"Not yet, but it'll definitely be me when she does!"
"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"
"No. But, in all seriousness, me and Tim are here to help. He gave me a rundown and what happened and I still have a bunch of stuff from my pregnancy classes that can help you. We also got some baby food and milk and formula for the baby, since she'll need to eat and be burped. I can walk you through all of that so you can start getting some experience in baby care."
Ah. He had forgotten that Brown had once been pregnant. That she gave away her own baby.
It must be hard for her to be on the other end of that situation, to watch someone take in a baby whose parent couldn't properly care for her, to muster up a smile and all the information she has to make things better.
"I would… appreciate that, Brown."
"Good! Well, lesson one starts now."
She throws open the door to the kitchen, where Drake is pressing the tip of a feeding bottle against the inside of his wrist. "Come here," he says to Damian. "Hold out a hand."
Curious, Damian does as told, and watches as Drake pressed the warm tip of the bottle against his wrist, where liquid splots out onto his skin. "That's about how warm it should be when you feed her. Here." He presses the bottle into Damian's hands, and it takes some adjustment before he can feed Ellie, who starts off slowly, then with more energy.
Brown tosses a rag over his shoulder, and instructs him on how to burp Ellie once she's finished eating. She coughs up some formula, then settles back into his arms, eyes closing as she begins to doze.
"I'll handle shopping," Drake says. "You need a crib, right? Maybe some toys… Just text me a list, I'll get everything."
"Why are you doing all this?" Damian can't help but ask. "We are not exactly… close."
Drake blinks at him, as though he's confused. "Because a baby is a big responsibility. And just because we don't always get along doesn't mean we're not family. She's my neice too. Doesn't she deserve to have more people in her corner?"
Damian can't argue with that, so he nods and lets Drake go to buy whatever he thinks is necessary. Brown lingers in the kitchen, making breakfast for them both in between sneaking glances at Ellie. Usually being watched so obviously would have him on edge and snappy, but he understands the urge to keep looking; he also can't take his eyes off of Ellie.
For someone so small to go through such hardship already… he doesn't understand how anyone can look at her and not want to keep her safe.
He wonders if anyone is keeping Danyal safe.
As much as he wants to go after Danyal, search for his resurrected brother, Ellie takes priority.
She's the one who's here to stay, after all.
Father doesn't come up from the Batcave all day.
Damian tries not to hate him for it.
He doesn't think he succeeds.
(masterpost for all parts)
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Danny is, slowly but surely, learning how to own and operate a farm. He's learning it from his adopted grandfather in the Ghost Zone.
To be fair, it had started out as him getting the shit kicked out of him courtesy of Vlad and his bullshit, and it had ended with the ghost of a farmer effectively kicking Vlad's ass.
That ghost took Danny into his Lair; it was an island, with fields of wheat, acres of space, and a little farmhouse with more rooms on the inside than seemed possible. He patched Danny up, made sure he would be okay, and then said;
"Son, did anyone ever teach you how to throw a punch?"
From there, he learned the farmer's name was Jon, and Jon (Pa, as he preferred) took it upon himself to grandparent the heck out of Danny.
As time passed, and his parents house got increasingly dangerous, Danny started spending more and more time on Pa's farm, and somewhere between learning valuable, useful, life lessons, he also started getting taught how to do farm work.
A year or so later, Pa pulls Danny aside.
"Listen, you still need some pointers occasionally, and that's perfectly fine, but my wife is still alive, and she's gonna need help with the harvest this year. Can you find the time to go make sure she's got it all covered?"
Danny agrees, of course.
Pa gives him a note to give to his wife ("She's gonna want you to call her Ma, if she likes you enough. You're a good kid though, so I think she'll insist."), a note to give to his son ("That boy shoulders far too many responsibilities, my death doesn't need to be one of them."), and a note to give to his grandson ("I just want him to know I'm proud to have him carry on my name."), an address for Danny to go to, and instructions on the general layout of the farm.
~~~~~~
Martha is doing morning chores, waiting for Clark and Jon to turn up so she can rope them into helping her with the harvest, when a white haired meta hero appears on her doorstep.
He's got a note from Jon, her Jon, and instructions to help her out on the farm for the harvest.
But Martha can read between the lines.
Jon would know she's got the boys. That, at a moments notice, she could rope in at least two more Supers and maybe a few Bats with the promise of pie. Jon would know that she wouldn't need an extra hand.
He, and it is him, she knows from the letter and the little references in it, sent this boy to her so he would have a safe place.
She just needs to find out if this kid needs a safe place permanently, or just as a backup plan.
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