#gotham blog

[crow-in-gotham]

BLOG POST NO. 4 - ALL ABOUT THE WAYNES

Remember that off-handed comment I made about moving into Gotham without proper research? Well, it’s more like no research at all because I just found out who the Waynes actually are.

For you see, I am what my friends lovingly (read: derogatorily) refer to as an internet hermit. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I have lived under a rock for basically my entire life. Well, at least when it comes to anything celebrity related. Hell, I don’t know much about Filipino celebrities, much less foreign ones. The only Filipino celebrities I bothered knowing the bare minimum about is BINI, and the only foreign actors I know are the ones who played in the Harry Potter series.

But back to my main point— yes, I only just now found out about who the Waynes are.

Why? Because I literally share a class with one of them. Actually, scratch that, I’m pretty sure I share a class with two of them—

So I did a little digging (read: my friends were appalled by how “uncultured” I am, and forced me to sit through a 3 hour long lecture about Wayne Lore) and here’s my thoughts.

First of all, Bruce Wayne, or “Brucie” as the media likes to call him, is the biggest fucking teddy bear I have ever seen. Like seriously, if “head empty, no thoughts” was a person, it would be him. Kinda sus (look Ray, internet slang!) to think he’s completely empty up there considering the fact that he, you know, runs one of the biggest enterprises in the entire world? The man is richer than Lex Luthor himself (yes, I know who he is— thank you Lan) and just keeps getting richer even with the amount of money he just seems to throw out everyday.

Honestly I’d be inclined to believe he’s actually some sort of secret super genius who’s just hiding behind a facade of stupidity just to lower everyone’s guard, but at the same time, I, quite frankly, could not give a fuck. The man pays my scholarship, I don’t really care if he’s the human version of a koala or the second coming of Isaac Newton. As long as he keeps doing all the good that he’s doing, I’m good. Overall, seems like a good guy and a nice hugger.

Next up is Richard Grayson-Wayne. Or, as literally everyone apparently calls him, “Dick”. Like, seriously? I know this has probably been said so many times— to the point where if you took all those times it was said by someone and turned it into an audio file, it would probably outlive the universe— but still. Really? Out of all the nicknames, you chose that?

And okay, maybe times were just different back then (shoutout to you old people out there), but was this guy so attached to the name that he just couldn’t be bothered to change it even when the modern day meaning for it was popularized? I mean, seriously, how many spittakes am I gonna have to go through every time my friend (hi Lan) says something along the lines of “I have a thing for Dick”. My friend knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing every time he says this sentence, because he never bothered to add the last name “Grayson” to it. Like, I know you’re gay Lan, but come on. The closet is already made of fucking glass.

Other comments to make? That ass. Like seriously, he tries to hide it by wearing slacks but sir, we are not blind. Those seams are fighting for their lives every time you take a step.

Next one on the list is Cassandra Cain-Wayne. There’s honestly not much else I can say about her other than the fact that I think she’s an absolute angel, and that I’ve replayed videos of her ballet performances for maybe an hour? There’s just something about the way that she dances that just looks so mesmerizing. It reminds me of a swan— beautiful, graceful, and equally as deadly. No, seriously, have you seen angry swans attacking people? Those birds can be fucking terrifying. I don’t know what about her looks so dangerous, but she just does? To me? It’s weird.

I’m not saying she’s a bad person or anything, I’m just saying that in a scenario where someone tries to mug her, I don’t think it would be her who’d end up with stitches. Which, honestly, I respect.

Next is Jason Todd-Wayne. The fucking brick house himself. I mean, come on, just look at one picture taken of him recently and tell me you did not stare for more than 10 seconds. This man is the definition of “If he’s a tree then I’m a squirrel”. Am I completely biased in this case? Maybe. Will I plead guilty? Over my dead fucking body.

The whole “disappeared for a weird amount of time, was assumed dead by the public for a while, then suddenly came back one day out of nowhere” situation aside, this guy is like the prime example of a glow-up. I don’t know what happened during those years he went missing, but he came back looking like a beefed up Princess Anna.

Chunk of muscle aside, there are also a few pictures of him hanging out with the kids that come by Martha’s House (local homeless shelter— thanks WE), and rescuing kittens from trees, and honestly I think it’s so sweet. It’s giving “gap moe” and I’m very much here for it.

Up next is Timothy Drake-Wayne, otherwise known as Tim (because who the fuck says Timothy nowadays—). Now this guy is the reason why this entire post exists in the first place. Why? Because I literally saw him walk right into class and sit literally right next to me (which, now that I think about it, is kinda weird because we were in a lecture hall and— hello, there’s literally 10 other seats in the same line as us?). Now, at first I didn’t really think anything of it— because duh, I lived under a rock remember? I had no idea who he was when he walked in, nor why everyone else in the room was staring at us like our heads were on fire (I checked— they were not), but I was running on 2 hours of sleep and barely any caffeine so I couldn’t give two fucks.

Then this mf (look Ray, abbreviations!) turned to me and just— hands me a bottle of 5 hour energy? That he just took out of his bag?? Now don’t get me wrong, I was thankful and all that, because there was no way in hell I would’ve survived that class without more caffeine making my heart almost palpitate, but also— kinda weird? Didn’t think much of it anyway and just thanked him. We did introduce ourselves to each other, but only with our first names because, you know, who the fuck introduces themselves with their full names unless it’s the first day of class and your professor decided it would be great to “get to know everyone” by doing self-introductions.

It wasn’t until 3 hours later at lunch when I discovered that I had, in fact, talked to Tim Drake-Wayne himself, courtesy of one of my friends (I’m looking at you Rayne) screaming at me.

That was also what led to the whole “sit down and let’s talk about Wayne Lore” that lasted 3 hours.

Duke Thomas-Wayne is the next one. This guy is an absolute fucking sunshine. He’s the other guy that’s in one of my other classes— actually, now that I think about it, we’re in a group together for that class’ semester-long project.

Wtf.

The literal personification of a ray of light is groupmates with me holy shit. “Become group mates with a Wayne” was definitely not on my bucket list for this year but you know what I’m not complaining about it.

Oh god I just remembered the fact that I ended up rambling about seashells for an embarrassingly long amount of time to him because the group wasn’t talking about anything so I ended up making small talk with the person next to me, which ended up being him.

I hope he liked my ramblings about the different kinds of seashells I have??

Last but definitely not the least (I feel legally obligated to say that) is Damian Wayne himself. He’s famous for being the only Wayne child to actually be blood-related to Bruce Wayne (not that that makes the others any less his kids—), and also well-known for the fact that he threatened to shove a cane up someone’s ass during one of the many Wayne Galas. Honestly, I respect it. The threatened person was being an asshole to some other guests and apparently Damian Wayne had enough of his bullshit. It made rounds on social media for an entire year apparently (not that I’d know— I was dead to the internet beyond my little circle of hyperfixations).

Other than that there’s not really much else to say about this guy? Other than the fact that I think he’s kinda cute in the little brother way. There’s a clip online of Tim Drake-Wayne calling him a demon spawn though, which I think is funny as fuck. It’s giving sibling energy to the max. I’m sure there's a good reason why this Damian Wayne has been dubbed the demon spawn.

There’s some honorable mentions for the Wayne Family (you know who I’m talking about) but honestly this has gone on for so fucking long. Maybe I’ll make a separate post about it at some point.

… How the fuck does Bruce Wayne deal with all these fucking kids—

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 247

Danny grumbles, going limp as the Spirit plucked him up, holding him out like some sort of stray cat. Their golden eyes stared across him, white hair shimmering and bloodied feathers rustling as they tilted their head. 

“You sure he’s not somehow ours?” Bludhaven asks again, setting him down once more to circle. Amity laughs, wild hair the color of wheat fluttering in a non-existent breeze and portal pulsing like a heart as she rests a hand on his head. 

“Well darlin’, I am asking if you would be open to adopting,” the Spirit laughs, the sound as familiar as the birds outside his window in the mornings. “Well, I suppose I could always ask your dear sister Arkham-” 

“No no, I would be honored,” Bludhaven smiled a literally sharp grin, something mischievous and violent about it in a way Danny was slowly growing used to. “I’m just- look at the little ghostling! He looks like he could be from ours! My hair, your eyes… he’s just missing markings…” 

“Markings he’ll get once you give me an answer darlin’...”

“OH- Yes, of course! Sorry, I got whelmed there.” 

“You have been stalking your vigilante a bit too much there Blud.” 

[dcxdpdabbles]

God danny taking pics at the gala and tim just being enthralled by him while danny is completely oblivious to the fact that this is his birdie

When Danny reaches the podium, he realizes he doesn't have a speech ready. He doesn't even have a topic on what he should be speaking about. He barely knows what kind of art this charity funds.

Is it painting? The theater? Writers? Digital? Music? Who knows, not Danny. He just knows that it was for kids.

He is also still holding Ryan's hand, so the other man is forced to walk up with him. He didn't mean to cling to the overwhelmed ex-waiter, but Danny was really nervous right now, and he forgot his strength when holding on. So, despite Ryan's few frantic tugs, Danny's trembling fingers locked his plam in an iron cage.

A sea of faces is aimed at them, people who make thousands a day, waiting for Danny to open his mouth and deliver a speech on a donation that he supposedly made.

In the front row, Danny can spot Oliver Green and Bruce Wayne, who each recently gave five million to the art programs. Danny knows this because there was a joke online that the two were trying to outdo each other. It was a game to them, yet somehow, Danny Fenton is the name that appears with the most money donated.

The bright spotlight is blinding, to the point that Danny feels like he is going to sweat through his suit.

How much did Lady Gotham donate?

Rayn nervously shifts on his feet, his hand also starting to get sweaty in Danny's hold. He gives the other man what he hopes is a comforting smile and only receives a bewildered, nervous grimace in turn. Danny wishes he could offer to comfort him, but with the very little Gala training he has from the Ghost Nobility Meeting, he knows he can't afford it.

He turns to the crowd, leaning towards the mic with a crooked smile. Danny swears that whenever he had to uphold the duties of his title, it felt like the transformation of Phantom overtaking his body, covering every inch until the uncool nerdy Fenton was gone. All that remains is the High King Phantom.

"Good evening. I am Danny Fenton, and I just want to thank Mr. Wayne for organizing such an important event for the arts. What is art? Art is everywhere- the melodies of our music, the design of our clothes, and the wonder in our stories, movies, plays, and books. Even the shelter of our homes has art. It's proof of humanity, for it was the first way humans ever recorded their existence, and we used it to change our reality."

He smiles at the crows, using one hand to gracefully gesture to the ceiling that Mr. Wayne's family has tastefully decorated with wood carvings. "It's this wonder that we are now offering to our youths so that they may one day look up at a similar world and fine the wonder in it"

He has no idea what he's going on about. Public speaking has never been his strong suit, but thankfully, he has enough regal to make it appear he does.

Danny's articulation has smoothed out, turning each word into a hypnotic, soothing rumble that washes over the party. He knows it's working because the people's expressions have now shifted, looking both surprised and captivated as more and more phrases fall from Danny's tongue.

If you were to ask him how he knows this, well, he would mention that Sam had once taken a video of him while he was practicing his King's address, and he had been stupefied that Phantom had always sounded so confident, sass, and in control. He never raised his voice, but his words were sharper, and an accent from the high class appeared in his tone.

It had been enough to make Phantom look like a King since the start of the human race, and Danny was grateful that, like invisibility, it could pass along to his human side without a full transformation.

It felt like an out-of-body experience—he knew he was speaking, he could see the absolutely enthralled audience, and he could even feel Ryan's hand and the heat of the light, but for the life of him, Danny could not understand what he was saying.

If this was a movie, it would be the montage of a slow pan over the people, dramatic, inspirational music playing in the background to draw out whatever he was saying, and only the visible of Danny dramatically talking, but not actual speech was heard.

It was Lady Gotham. She had taken over his body and set it to autopilot. He knew because Clockwork had once done it to him when Danny was unsure about the move to Gotham.

At least she stepped in when he needed her the most.

"Thank you for your time," Danny finishes, feeling Phantom's confidence melt away as the roaring round of applause echoes through the ballroom. Slowly, he feels the control of his limbs return to him as he pushes away from the podium.

"Wow," Ryan gasps, staring at him with wide shining eyes. He looks like his breath has collapsed in his lungs. Danny feels his face heat up as the handsome man continues to stare. "That was the most beautiful speech I've ever heard. You're... incredible."

"Nah, man, I just really like...the arts." He fumbles. "Like taking photos 'cause I have...a camera." Danny shutters, gesturing to the thing hanging around his neck. "It got lens and everything."

Ryan blinks at him. "Are you nervous?"

"Yeah"

"Why? You just gave the most impressive inspirational speech I've ever heard."

"It's because you're hot and you're talking to me, and I'm not good with people," Danny tells him honestly, dropping Ryan's hand to rub at his neck. I also really want to take the Waynes' photos and be gone, back to the streets."

Ryan laughs, throwing his whole head back and trying to cover his mouth with his hand. Danny's eyes widened, utterly shocked by how bright he seemed now. "You, Danny Fenton, are the strangest man I have ever met, and I've only known you for an hour!"

Danny's face turns hotter. "Yeah...I ugh...I get that a lot."

There is a moment of silence, during which the clicking of people's wine glasses and the slow mutter of voices wash over them. Ryan considers him with a critical eye before he holds out his hand once more. "Do you care for a dance?"

"Dance? With me?" Danny repeats, but at Ryan's answering smile, he feels himself melt. Retaking the hand, he held through the long speech, Danny grins, "I love to. But only one song. I have to find the Waynes afterward."

"Why?"

"I'm on a job, actually. My client hired me to take photos of them."

"That's an odd request," Ryan comments, bringing Danny in close to sway to the music that plays. Danny shrugs his shoulders, carefully following the steps Princess Dora had taught him.

"She's an odd lady."

_________________________________________________________

Across the hall, Jason is watching the pair with intensity. Tim can understand the urge to figure out the new player because he knows who Danny Fenton is and where on earth he had hidden his wealth until this sudden splash.

However, that was mostly due to Tim's upbringing and current CEO job. What made Jason so focused on him? His brother usually never even blinked on any new money or old money.

He thought them too annoying and only came to galas to keep the civilian image up.

"Something on your mind, Jay?" He asks quietly, leaning on the wall and sipping his sparkling water.

"That's Ryan Aetos. One of my...employees."

Ah, a Red Hood Goon.

That could mean two things: Aetos needed more money for whatever reason and took a legitimate part-time job when not making rounds with the rest of the gang, or he was going rogue and planning on betraying Jason.

He was going to break one of Jason's rules, likely where they don't target the crazy rich because the crazy rich could buy the law and bring down it's wrath until the gang's territory.

In Tim's experience, it was seldom the first option.

"Do you think he'll do something?"

"I don't know. He seemed genuine when he spoke about his sick sister- she's why he's been trying to make a quick buck to pay for her medical bills- but he also has a reputation."

"What kind of reputation?"

"Manipulating and one hell of a Romance scammer." Jason grunts. "I've seen him trick three people into funding his lifestyle by batting his eyelashes. I've let him be since he never targeted anyone who didn't deserve it, and it was one less corner boy I had to worry about. But if he's pulling that now on Fenton...."

"Then Fenton may not react very well when he finds out. And we don't have enough information on him to know what he would do to Aetos." Tim finishes turning now to also observe the couple. Fenton is a flustered mess, seeming to be rambling and far too interested in the man wearing the waiter outfit.

Aetos, for his part, is smiling down at him with a content little grin and an adoring expression. It's hard to say if it's an honest one, though, because whenever Fenton glances away, hunger bleeds into Aeto's face.

Is the hunger of a man attracted to another man?

Or the hunger of a man attracted to greed?

Crude.

"What's your call?" He asks Jason since it is his employee. Betrayal or not, Jason has always cared deeply for those he considered his, including the men and women in his gang.

Jason watches for three more songs in silence before sighing. "Separate them. I'll take Ryan and see if I can figure out his plan. You find out more about Fenton. Maybe it is just New Money falling in love with a man down on his luck who's trying to care for his little sister."

"Sounds like a Hallmark movie," Tim jokes, pushing away from the wall. "I've always hated how cliche those movies are"

[kettlefire]

Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea

Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:

Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.

Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.

A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.

Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.

Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.

"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."

Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.

Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.

"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."

Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.

"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."

There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.

"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."

Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.

"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."

Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.

"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."

Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.

"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."

Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.

"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."

The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.

"Da... We... Help... They..."

Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.

"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."

Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.

"... I love you, Danny..."

Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.

It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.

Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.

That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.

And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.

[antigonenikk]

batman perhaps the most prodigious child abuser to ever live. no wife. no biological children of his own whose lives he could destroy (at first) so he got smart. hustled. took to the streets picking up and adopting orphans and then ruining each of their lives systematically. until ofc he got sick of them and threw them out for the next best model. he was flawless in his execution of it too. these kids still want daddys attention til this very day. even after he rocks their shit or kicks them out for the millionth time. these mfs are willing to KILL each other for a chance at being daddys favorite candy baby for a week. batman truly is a sick mf i understand why joker thinks they have a connection.

[gothamite-shenanigans]

thinking of that one time i hadn't slept in like a week and i got stuck in an elevator with dick grayson on the way up to the floor i work at in WE, and i accidentally told him he's shaped like a dorito and how a lot of people like doritos and then said very seriously, "I prefer potato chips though, no offense" but thankfully he laughed it off and didn't even look uncomfy??? like idk how he does it but like that man istg

anyways i have nightmares about this and still wake up in a cold sweat thinking about it and have avoided the oldest wayne kid since this incident

[officiallyossy-haywooddent]

@officialbernarddowd

Is there a conspiracy theorist club? If so can I join?

[gothamundernightlight]

Incorrect Batfam Quotes

Jason: I will no longer use gendered language when greeting people. Instead, I will use the alternative welcome.

Bruce: I’m almost afraid to ask, but what is the alternative welcome?

Jason: Approach if you dare, friends and enemies.

Bruce: …

Bruce: That’s good, can I use that?

[the-children-of-gotham]

"Sunshine, wakey wakey! Everyone!" Christel called out before teleporting in alone. She had a huge grin on her face. She wore normal combat clothes along with a large bag.

@christelgothamite

Many groans were heard as most of them were awake and drinking coffee while eating breakfast.

“Anastasias still asleep and Elwins in the shower. Or maybe he’s stuck in the bathroom doing his fancy scamnsie skin routine.” Mary rolled her eyes as she sipped her coffee.

[peepdraws]

A portrait of Janet Lynn Drake.

Mrs. Drake in attendance of Wayne Enterprise’ charity auction gala. In addition to the paintings and artifacts the couple auctioned, Mrs. Drake auctioned off the jewelry set pictured.

Mrs. Drake's obituary.

@jane-lynndrake-t

[crow-in-gotham]

BLOG POST NO. 10 - RED HOOD LEFT AND NOW I’M STRANDED IDK

So Red Hood left first thing in the morning. He was nice enough to clean up after himself and also take out the trash (I was confused at first then I realized it might be because of the bloody cotton balls) before he left. He also left me a little note saying thank you for letting him crash, and that he enjoyed the food I had in the fridge (that was the last of my buko pandan—).

… Is this just a normal occurrence for other Gotham citizens? To just have vigilantes crash at your place? Which, okay, I know that I did technically drag Red Hood inside myself, but in my defense he’s a brick wall and could have easily gotten out of my grip if he really wanted to.

Honestly, I think the dude was just too tired to give a fuck. If that’s the case, then that’s a fucking mood.

Anyway, I was on my commute to the University as I write this. Unfortunately, the bus I was riding got its tires exploded and I am now stuck waiting for another bus to come.

Whoopdeefucking doo.

If I knew this would happen I would’ve just sent the professors an email and stayed in for the whole day.

Fuuuckkk

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 317

IMAGINE THIS: Lil baby Damian, bored and being not quite old enough to start learning how to use proper weapons (curse these wooden ones, he wants true steel!) is wandering the base. This is not out of the ordinary, he’s the prince after all. What is out of the ordinary is that his shadow, his Akhi, is not here. 

Technically, he should be napping, but he woke up and neither his mother or his brother- who is quiet but gentle and isn’t a good speaker (mother said it was from a head injury)- is there. Which is how he finds his way to the Pit, which he’s not supposed to be at. Or at least not alone. 

But! His mother and Akhi are there! And- and Akhi is screaming and he’s never heard him scream like that, like he’s in agony- His eyes are green- they were blue, had, had Mother placed him in the Waters- 

And then the pool is bubbling- he should be running away, get assistance or something, he’s five, he shouldn’t be running towards it when everything is screaming to flee. But one moment he’s at the doorway, the next he’s clinging to his akhi as something writhes in the Pit, a mighty bellow echoing even as the Shadows take defensive positions. 

The water cascades, laps at their feet, splashes everywhere as a scaled form rises from the depths, wings like a bloodied sunset spreading as fur bursts into flames. Crimson eyes glare down at them all, pupils slits as they bare down at his Akhi. 

The creature- the dragon- dips its head down, its breath warm as it chuffs at his akhi, wings folding as though it is bowing. His akhi is clinging to Mother, shivering, several scars glowing as they fade and a burst of hair burned white. 

Oh. 

Oh.

@fairy-lights-and-blobs @f4nd0m-fun @hdgnj @radiance1 pspspspsps

[dcxdpdabbles]

If you’re taking requests, I’d love to see more of Danny and the Fan Blog.

Danny is asked to go in through the servant's entrance. He would be offended if he couldn't tell that the people strutting through the front gate weren't wearing outfits that cost more than his family house.

He didn't see a reason to argue with security, so Danny wandered over to the side entrance and was allowed entrance when they verified his identification.

He winds up in a spacious kitchen. Men and women are rushing around in white and blue chef outfits. They speak in fast tones and make quick movements, somehow never colliding with each other.

In the far right corner, a group of servers is straightening out their outfits and picking up trays covered in various drinks or finger foods. They wander in and out at a more leisurely pace than the cooking crew, but there is a sense of urgency among them that tells Danny they are having it rough out in the field, too.

Security is standing at the entrance, and occasionally, a second guard walks in, pacing around the room with a sharp eye.

Danny feels like a floating life raft in a raging sea. He clings to his camera hanging around his neck and wishes to bail on his mission for Lady Gotham. Getting a portrait shot of all the Waynes was starting to seem like too much of a hassle.

If only she wasn't so high-ranking in nobility.

After noticing that Danny needs to know where to go, one of the servers slides over. "Hey, I'm Ryan. Is this your first time covering a big event?"

He gives the taller man a nervous smile. "Yeah. I've never been to a party as fancy as this."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Ryan tells him with an easy smile. Danny notices he's pretty handsome, but that's to be expected. Everyone knows that Bruce Wayne only hired good-looking people for servers.

It's one of the reasons his parties are so well-liked.

"I'll break it down for you. First, there are three floors to the party- the entrance hall where most are just trading pleasures. Do not try to start up conversations there; it is seen as impolite. Second, the Middle room- right between the ballroom and the entrance- is where the elites sit down for a conversation. They also go there to take a break from the party. It's where you'll be tonight since it's where media crew is allowed." Ryan says quickly, taking long, fast strides. Danny scrambles after him, trying to retrain everything in memory.

It's a bit hard since Ryan doesn't seem to want to waste a second, and Danny might or might not be the best at following verbal instructions. If only he had a notepad.

"Pro tip: don't turn on the flash. The elites hate it when they notice you're there. The crew is asked to stay in the first two rooms. Mr. Wayne lets the media into his parties, but he wants his guests to be safe, so don't even try to go into the main ballroom and, for your sake, ask before you take a picture." Ryan finishes pushing open a door. He gestures to the room. "Good luck."

"Hold on-" Danny tries to say, but he can't finish before he is thrown into the hallway. At once, Danny realizes with horror that he is right in the center of the Middle room. There are a lot more people than he is prepared for, seeing as groups of people are standing or sitting around speaking in low voices.

A few heads turn to look at him, making Danny panic. He spots a corner that is far away from everyone. He makes his way there with careful steps, hunching his shoulders whenever he accidentally makes eye contact with people.

Though that was more of the staff, the guests seemed to look right. Danny isn't used to it from Amity Park, but it's a surprise to have to experience it again here in Gotham.

Arriving safely in his corner, Danny leans against the wall, surveying the room. He doesn't know who anyone is, which means his targets are not here, but he can certainly tell they all scream wealth.

A slight floral scent is in the air, and music plays through the wall in a classical ambiance. It's every stereotype of rich people's party, giving horrid flashbacks to high society events in the Ghost zone.

At least no one is mobbing him to try and gain favor with the new naive King.

He accidentally locks gaze with an older woman who lifts her eyebrow. Her expression is smooth, but her eyes are cold as ice and he can practically feel her sneer.

Danny snaps his eyes away, swallowing hard. He fumbles with his camera, checking the settings, adjusting the lens, and trying to look busy.

After a moment, he felt her gaze leave him.

Okay, I can do this, he thinks, relieved that the ice queen wasn't staring him down. I just find the Waynes, get their pictures, and go home. Then I can go out and take photos of the Bats.

Taking a deep breath, Danny shuffles to the main door and adjusts his camera settings again. As he clicks through the shutter settings, he feels a hand reach out and nearly knock the wind out of him.

"Guest only beyond this point," A man in a suit growls at him. Danny rubs his chest, trying not to melt into the ground as he can feel multiple people turn to stare.

"I am a guest." He tells the man.

The other sighs. "Sir, if you don't back up, I must escort you off the property."

"What? No, I swear I am. I have an invitation." Danny pulls out the letter Lady Gotham gave him, unfolding it from his back pant pocket. The man takes it from his hand and crumbles it up without looking at it.

"Hey!"

"I will not tell you again. Take a step back or else!"

Danny's hands curl into fists against his will. The man's eyes narrow with a sneer, matching his rage. Just as he thought things would go badly, he heard a voice crack over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you all are enjoying the evening. This night wouldn't have been possible without your generous donations today. A special thank you to Daniel Fenton for making the largest donation." Bruce Wayne says with a dizzy smile.

Danny straightens up. "That's me. I'm Daniel Fenton."

"Sure it is."

"I am! I have my ID." Danny pulls out his wallet. "Look!"

"That's it. You have ten seconds to leave: on your own or by force," the man growls, reaching up to his earpieces. He taps them twice. I request a backup to remove a disturbance."

"What?! I'm not even doing anything!"

"We had plenty of complaints against you already. You made our guest feel unsafe."

"But-!"

"Is there a problem here?" a second pair of security guards asks. They surround Danny, and by this point, people have noticed there is undoubtedly a disturbance underway.

"No, there isn't! I'm just trying to go to the party I was invited to."

"Nice try. I saw you come through the servant's entrance." One of them says.

"Because they told me to!" Over the shoulder of one of the guards, he spots Ryan walking by with a tray of shimmering drinks. Thinking about how nice he was, Danny waved a hand. "Ryan can vouch for me. Hey, Ryan! Ryan!"

The server turns to him, his eyes comprehensive as soon as he spots Danny waving eagerly. Face turning pale, the man rushes over.

"What's going on?" He asks, and two guards level dark stares at the employee.

"Ryan, can you please tell them I was invited?" Danny demands with a pout.

"Kid, I told you the crew stays in the Middle room," Ryan tells him nervously, warping an arm around him and balancing the tray in the other. "It's okay, guys. He's with me. He just got a little confused is-"

"So you both need to be removed from the premises," the original guard sneers, snapping his figures. The other two quickly step forward and grab them. "By the way, Ryan, you're fired."

"W-what? But Cooper, I really need this job. My sister has medical bills, and she depends on me!"

"Then she's going to be very disappointed, isn't she?" Cooper tells him with a smirk.

"That's not fair. He didn't do anything wrong." Danny protests as Ryan's expression crumbles.

"What is going on here?" a new voice asks. Everyone turns to find an elderly British man looking at them, all unimpressed.

"Mr. Pennysworth. We have the situation handled." Cooper tells him smoothly.

"Good, because Master Wayne is waiting for Mr. Fenton to give a speech."

That makes everyone freeze, including Danny. "I am?"

"Of course, sir. You did out-donate everyone here," the butler tells him in a deadpan voice. He gives the shocked Ryan a quick glance, "This is?"

"Ryan," Danny says, taking the tray from the stunned older teenager. He passes it to a gaping Copper. "He's with me."

"Very well, sirs, please come this way." He glances at the camera around Danny's neck. "I see you brought your equipment. Please refrain from taking photos within the hall."

"Yes sir." He tells the butler, grabbing Ryan's hand and pulling him into the room.

"You're rich?" Ryan gasps, staring at Danny like he was an alien

"It would certainly appear so. By the way, what's your last name?"

"Aetos"

"Ryan Aetos. Nice name. What's your sister's name?"

"Ida. Why?"

"To pay off all her medical bills. Current and future."

"What?!"

Danny smiles up at the teenager. He seems to be about two years older than Danny, so he is likely nineteen. "Yeah, you were nice to me. That's good karma, and trust me, in Gotham, that means a lot. Now, let's enjoy the party. You're my plus one tonight."

Light years above them, Karma kicks her feet, giggling madly. "It looks like Tim has noticed Danny for his camera, but oh, what this—a love rival, with a heart of gold and a care for his sister? Lovely."

"Do you not have a life sister?"

"I have a job. Unlike you, brother." She snaps before quickly moving Tim into a position that would be fabulous once Danny gives into his urge to take the photo. Just in case.

[ky-landfill]

@gothamhorrorzine