#Damian white
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mrsoftthoughts · 7 months ago
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I feel that the fact of Nico being seen as Creepy and untrustworthy should have extended to the other childs of cthonic deity's ( let's pretend that rick never brush that under the rough at the end of hoo)
probably most of them would be ignored at the start, yeah they're kinda "weird" and for that a lot of people would prefer to let them behind, but there's nothing more on top of that
at least that's how it is until any of them shows something that could be considered a treat ( also knows as: the equivalent of demigod rage that probably has been seen in all the campers at least once but put down the filter of "their mother/father is a underworld deity and that's creepy") everyone is gonna over react, and in the spawn of a few days you're gonna presence a whole cabin being ostracized, people talking at their backs and rumors running around ( maybe even brought Alabaster for the Hecate cabin )
(And this also opens a interesting world with the Hermes kids, Hermes is both an Olympic but also a cthonic as a psychopomp ¿Maybe the hermes cabin having a instructions manual of what to do when one of their siblings leads more towards the souls guide, how to deal with that and how to avoid them being discriminated by the camp?)
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crowandthefics · 3 months ago
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Headcannons/information about my Titan army killer au!
-this au takes place between the last Olympian and the lost hero.
-in this au, Ethan does not die in the battle of manhattan. He survives after being found by Drew. Only to die a week later by the titan army killer.
-Tanaka/nakamura family is cannon to this.
-many half bloods in the TA were given pardons and welcomed back to chb
-the titan army killer is an unidentified camper at chb. They are killing ex-titan army campers for an unknown reason.
-Chiron is negligent to all of this, passing off every death as an accident of some sort.
-Drew Tanaka and Valentina Diaz are the ones actually stepping up and searching for the killer.
-there is a group called “the crew”. Which was formed after the second death (Margret smiths). The crew consists of: Lou Ellen, Valentina, Neil, Milly, James, marrie, desire, Jessie(before death), Clovis and Drew. Notably, Chris is not in the crew
-there are supporting campers who are not part of the crew but are upset about the murders, including: Will solace, Cecil markowitz, and the stolls
Important characters
Ex-Titan army campers
Lou Ellen blackstone, Hecate counselor; alive
Ethan nakamura, son of nemesis; dead
Margret smiths, daughter of Hephaestus; dead
Chris Rodriguez, son of Hermes; alive
Valentina Diaz, daughter of Aphrodite; alive
Neil, son of Nike; dead
Milly Anderson, daughter of Demeter; alive
James step, son of Athena; alive
Marrie jones, daughter of Aphrodite; alive
Desire brown, daughter of tyche; alive
Jessie Williams; unclaimed; dead
Regular chb campers
Drew Tanaka, Aphrodite counselor
Damian White, son of nemesis
Will Solace, Apollo counselor
Cecil Markowitz, son of Hermes
Evan Winks, son of Hermes
The stoll brothers, Hermes counselors
Other
Alabaster Torrington, son of Hecate, exiled
Chiron, camp director
Clovis, Hypnos counselor
This will be updated as the story goes on
And please, ask questions! Make theory’s, try to find the killer,
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6vaguebook · 9 months ago
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I just want a slice of life fanfic set in camp half blood
No angst. No plot. Preferably no callback to dead characters. With Jason.
And because I don't trust anyone but myself, instead of hoping on AO3 and browsing the slice of life fics, I decided to just do it myself!
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axiliern · 6 months ago
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my batfam face ref sheet i made for myself + my ethnicity hc's for them :]
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spicy-apple-pie · 7 months ago
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Bruce posts this to his twitter with the caption "So proud of Gotham to be an accepting and inviting place where me and my family are free to be ourselves ❤️❤️❤️"
(HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYBODY!!!)
Commission Info / Kofi
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notfeelingthyaster · 7 months ago
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dick grayson really out there surviving bullets to the head while jason straight up died from a punch, plot armor is truly something
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snaileer · 2 months ago
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I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.
Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.
He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.
He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.
“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.
Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“
The glass shatters.
Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”
He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.
Wonderful.
Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”
The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.
“Thanks.”
“Uh huh.”
The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.
He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?
The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.
He looks up at the wet floor sign.
The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.
Danny sighs.
He curses his stupid luck.
He curses this stupid city.
Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.
Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.
He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.
He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.
Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.
Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.
Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.
He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.
By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.
Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.
Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.
And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.
Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.
Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.
He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.
Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.
He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.
It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.
But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!
Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.
‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’
Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.
He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.
The worst part?
He has the perfect solution.
There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.
‘Help wanted’
When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.
He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?
Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.
Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.
Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.
He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.
Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.
“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?
Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”
The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.
“You have experience?”
“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”
“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”
Danny blinks. What? Also. What?
“Wait-I’m hired?”
Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”
“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”
“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.
Crap.
“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”
“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”
Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”
Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”
Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”
Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”
Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”
“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“
“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”
Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.
“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.
Claire smiles at him.
Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.
There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.
“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”
Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.
“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”
“Good, here for your reading right?”
“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.
“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”
“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”
Danny grimaces, “Sure.”
In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.
All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”
Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.
Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.
He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.
Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.
He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.
“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”
Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”
‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.
Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-
“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”
Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.
Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.
Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.
What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?
Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.
He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.
Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.
He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.
Danny sighs.
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dragonpyre · 2 months ago
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DC: here’s robin!
DC: *shows a pale boy with curtain bangs*
Me: ah, it’s Tim Drake
DC: tf you mean, this is Damian Wayne
Me: w-
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caffeinatedvigilantewriter · 2 months ago
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So Dani got deaged to 3 and Danny 32 moved both of them to Central City, becoming a chemistry teacher. Dani grows as normal.
Eventually though, it becomes clear that Central doesn’t have enough ambient ecto to sustain Dani, so they move to Gotham.
Danny gets a job at Giatha Acdany, and sends Dani there. Danny also runs the astronomy club, which Damian Wayne joins.
He and Dani share classes, and it becomes clear that they hate each others guts. Everything becomes a competition with them, and they both have an equal chance of winning. The entire school is placing bets on them.
Eventually, parent-teacher conferences roll around, and Danny gets to meet the father of Damian.
Him and Bruce instantly click.
Damian is not pleased. Nor is Dani.
Damian and Dani form a temporary alliance to prevent their fathers from dating.
Eventually, Damian and Dani learn to tolerate each other. And their plan still hasn’t worked.
It’s the last day of the school year, and Danny’s and Dani are going abroad they actually going to the GZ for the holidays. They are saying their goodbyes when the GIW attacks the school, snatching Dani and Danny from under their noses.
No one is pleased.
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malenjoyer · 1 year ago
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People seemed to like this on other platforms so I’ll post it here too
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jerseygirljasontodd · 3 months ago
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this is so funny like im cracking tf up... the cocky son of color thinking that he can call his mother by her first name, and getting eyebrow raised into submission? many such cases
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stick2sherlock · 11 months ago
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My favourite Bruce and Damian moment is in Batman Black and White. Bruce spends the whole issue going over the how's and why's of planned bust to Damian. How each and every action will strike fear in hearts of criminals, how each action of Batman and Robin's will affect the set scene. And when the big moment comes - Damian disregards the whole plan, jumps in trying to hijack the plan and to emulate (very unsuccessfully) terrifying "I"M BATMAN" moment.
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And you know what?
Bruce... just sits there. Facepalming. AND SMILING.
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That little smile is the best goddamn thing. It's a moment so full of fondness, showing Bruce's love for his ridiculous little child. Damian is being himself, and that is enough for Bruce to find that endearing, even if it screws up a carefully prepared plan. And that is such a lovely, quiet moment of parental love that we just don't see much in comics.
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starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago
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There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.
He has an older brother
He was dead
(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)
Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.
The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.
His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.
However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.
Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.
(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)
(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)
(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")
("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")
(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")
(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)
(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)
"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"
Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."
Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.
(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)
But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.
And he scowls even deeper.
And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"
Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.
He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."
The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.
Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.
Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.
His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"
There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.
Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.
Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.
There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.
Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.
Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.
Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)
His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.
Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."
"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."
The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.
Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.
Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.
Danyal kills each one.
The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.
"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.
A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."
"Danya!"
Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.
(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)
The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."
Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.
"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.
Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"
"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."
"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.
Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.
Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.
Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."
Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."
"...So be it."
Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.
More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.
It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.
Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.
His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.
But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.
It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.
Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.
In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.
"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"
"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."
That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.
He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.
"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."
Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"
"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."
Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"
Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."
"What if one of us faked our death?"
Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.
Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"
"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.
"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."
Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.
Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.
The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."
Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."
Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."
Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.
Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."
The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.
Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.
...Was mother ever going to tell him?
The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.
His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.
His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.
Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.
The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.
So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.
He has an older brother
His older brother is alive.
(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc prompt#i promise this is a prompt#it just got very long#danyal al ghul au#my take on a danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#dpdc#dpxdc crossover#i know the usual gist is that danyal al ghul is a better knife thrower than he is a swordsman but hey#consider: phantom has a sword when he fights ghosts. how sick is that?#his ghost form having allusions to the LoA. its not obvious but its there#did i make danny brown skinned? yeah. because him being white or not is irrelevant to me and i wanted to make him darker skinned#thinking about the angst of bruce seeing his firstborn son going “i could stay with father!” and then said child being visibly crushed#when told no. and that he may never see his father ever. actually. if he fakes his death. and still doing it anyways for damian's sake#danny loves his little brother he just shows it in an unorthodox way. some of it is not his fault#also danny being an absolute grump in amity park is very funny to me. he's an arrogant little assassin child in AP who is only here for#his little brother's sake and safety. he loves his brother but that doesnt stop him from being an arrogant little brat#gremlin assassin child danny is so funny#i know this is very ironic for me to post after posting my thoughts on danyal al ghul aus and their missed potential#but actually this prompt is what spurred that post into creation in the first place actually.#because i was thinking about this au and then went “oh hey you know whats funny--” and then i#thought about it too much to the point where i had to make a post talking about it#tried to find a balance between danny being mature for his age and also still being a kid#like yeah he’s a trained assassin and has killed but also he’s a 10yo boy about to be separated - Assumingly permanently- from his family
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nosyrobin · 3 months ago
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Damian Wayne with White Bat!Reader
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Damian: (angry cause he’s grounded and can’t go on patrol)
Damian: Turn into a bat…..
You:(just came back from school) what?
Damian: What are you deaf? I said turn into a bat!
You:(over his bullshit) Fine… (turns into a fluffy white bat)
Damian: (smirks in victory as he holds you in his hands)
Damian: Good…(pets you like a villain to their black cat) now I feel complete. We shall now watch movies as I think of a plan to sneak out..
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flwrkid14 · 29 days ago
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Tim and Danny Fenton-Drake Twins: Frozen AU but Make It Unhinged™️
Listen. I need you to imagine this: Tim and Danny as the chaotic Anna and Elsa of the DC Universe. Because brainrot. Let’s go:
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Danny? ICE CORE. WHITE HAIR. Ghost powers he didn’t ask for? Absolutely. Dude pulls an Elsa-level isolation arc, locking himself away in the Ghost Zone like, “I’m dangerous! Stay away!” Meanwhile, Tim’s just standing there, pounding on the portal like:
Tim: “DANNY, OPEN THIS PORTAL OR I SWEAR TO EVERY ANCIENT SPIRIT—”
Danny: phasing through the wall “Tim, leave.”
Tim: “DO YOU WANNA BUILD A WEAPONIZED SNOWMAN?!”
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Tim? Pure, unfiltered, chaos-goblin-Anna energy. This man will not be stopped. Danny’s trying to brood? Too bad. Tim’s already there with a 40-step plan to drag him back to reality.
• Danny: accidentally freezes half of Amity Park
• Tim, covered in ice but unfazed: “So, anyway, we’re going out for coffee.”
• Danny: “Tim, I can’t—”
• Tim: “NOT. A. REQUEST.”
————
The Batfam? Losing their collective minds.
• Bruce: “Who turned the Batcave into a snow globe?”
• Tim: building a snow fort “Team-building exercise.”
• Jason: “Why is the Replacement singing ‘Let It Go’ like he’s on Broadway?”
• Damian: deadpan “He has lost control of his life.”
————
Meanwhile, Danny’s trying to deal with ghost stuff quietly, but Tim? Not a chance.
• Danny: mid-battle with ghostly chaos
• Tim: kicking down a door he didn’t need to kick down “HEY, BRO, NEED BACKUP?”
• Danny: “I HAD THIS UNDER CONTROL!”
• Tim: “AND I’M HERE TO UN-CONTROL IT!”
————
Then, there’s the inevitable ice-breakdown™️ moment. Danny, tears in his eyes, freezing everything, trying to protect everyone from himself. And Tim? Unmoved. Standing there in the middle of a blizzard like:
• Danny: “I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”
• Tim: “I’LL TAKE MY CHANCES.”
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Jazz? She’s just over here trying to be the responsible one.
• Jazz: “You two need therapy.”
• Tim: “I HAVE A MISSION.”
• Danny: “I’M LITERALLY DEAD.”
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Oh, and Damian? He’s the terrifying version of Olaf.
• Damian, following Danny around: “Can you make sentient snow golems to fight enemies?”
• Danny: “That’s not how it works.”
• Damian: “Weak.”
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Jason? He’s the sarcastic Sven equivalent, muttering from the sidelines, “Is this a twin thing? This feels like a twin thing.”
————
TL;DR: Tim refuses to let Danny have his broody Ghost Zone isolation arc, Danny’s one meltdown away from turning Gotham into the next Ice Age, and the Batfam is scared but too confused to ask questions.
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captain-mozzarella · 2 years ago
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Tim: so why do you constantly dye your little white streak? It's gotta be a nuisance to keep up with that
Jason: ?
Dick: he's dying it? I thought it was a side effect of the pit??
Jason: ??
Damian: the pit does not cause a change in hair colours, Todd is obviously going grey prematurely.
Jason: I have vitiligo??? What the fuck
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