#why is bruce so hard to draw

[erinwantstowrite]

silly doodle for the day

[waveoftheocean]

morning smooch!

[roppiepop]

havent touched this in literal years so ill just foist it here :////

[tamagoneko]

still the heartthrob 💜

[theusernameiwantisntavailable]

And if I said brutalia?

[yippieyayyy]

the heartthrob

[r0sy-maple-m0th]

fic updates + brozone minus bruce 😔😔

ALLRIGHT BOYS, THE FLIFF FANFIC IS IN THE WORKS!! the title of it (as of now) is 'poprocks'. its not really relevant to the story, hence it might change, but i think it suits fliff so it stays for now!

itll be a story themed around recovery and trying to be better. there will be romance, there will be angst, and ofc there will be loads of character developement (im a sucker for that shit😊)

i havent started the actual writing yet, ill be starting that tmrw, but i do have notes and summaries for the first 6ish chapters no idea how long it'll be so stay tuned to find out

+ heres some doodles i made of the little guys -- minus bruce, im still figuring out how to draw him decently (its a process guysss trust)

[roobylavender]

im really sorry if this question ends up being repetitive: but, if not for bruce’s over reliance on dick to regulate his thoughts and emotions, why would dick grow up into feeling like he needs to repress his emotions so much and his eagerness to act as people’s support? i know youve spoken about wolfman and his altering of their relationship but if ntt is generally an accurate portrayal of an adult dick, to me this nevertheless sounds like the consequences a parent-child relationship where the responsibilities are titled too much towards the child

i suppose this could also segue into asking for recs that would help me better understand your interpretation of their relationship 👀

not repetitive at all! to me the irony of wolfman's depiction of dick lies in that it is simultaneously something you can logically ascertain from prior canon but not for the reasons actually presented by wolfman. if that makes sense. he does extra work that isn't actually necessary to help explain why dick would act the way that he does because there's plenty of reasons for it without rewriting his history with bruce to have always been suppressed and edgy and dark. to me it makes far more sense to capitalize on the inevitable disconnect between bruce and dick as an adult and a child. batman: full circle is a good example of that dichotomy (and although it was published in the early 90s it built on mike w. barr's prior understanding of the relationship between dick and bruce that he wrote into the early 80s). bruce's primary concern for the people he works with is never standards or finesse but safety. he worries constantly about others coming to harm under his watch and with a child in particular those worries were exacerbated. he ran a tight ship not because he believed dick had anything to prove but because the only way dick could keep being robin was if he went about it safely. that was obv easy for an adult to understand. but not so much for a child

to bruce these worries were practical and par for the course (as well as an expression of his love and protectiveness) but for dick their consequences formed the crux of his entire world. as a child he idolized everything about bruce. his heroism. his work ethic. his skill. his resolve. his preparedness. if dick couldn't live up to the standard he set for himself in idolizing bruce then what could he ever hope to amount to? that was the thought constantly going through his head. and it's why the bulk of his childhood and primary tenure as bruce's partner was so precariously protected by the fact that nothing bad ever really happened during it (and admittedly this framing is convenient because even chronologically speaking nothing very significant happened in their history with each other until dick left for university in 1969) (i know dixon opted to write that whole shtick with dent in his version of events but personally i never found it necessary to do so). there is enough there in the idea of dick working hard for the course of a decade to embody who he believed bruce to be that lends itself to it eventually being difficult for him to healthily express himself once the rift between them actually began to emerge

because what about bruce was there to actually see that was broken and dark before dick became an adult? i know a lot of dick fans hate batman #408 because they don't like that it enforced "retirement" upon dick (which i personally believe is a conclusion they come to because of the way batman #416 re-framed the same scene) but to me that's an inaccurate reading of the text. batman #408 was about bruce (admittedly far too belatedly) recognizing that he could not in good conscience continue to ask dick to go out and be a vigilante on what he considered to be his own "orders". he viewed dick's close call with death at the hands of the joker as something directly of his own making. although their tenure with each other had been wonderful if dick wanted to continue to be a vigilante it had to be on his own terms and of his own volition. obv that was logical to bruce and it was something dick managed to accept in the moment. but it's still hard to go from always having a purpose alongside someone you idolized to finally being entrusted entirely to forge your own

in general i like the idea of dick the adult becoming privy to all of the personal problems and conflicts that come with being a vigilante. he was conveniently shielded from a lot of those problems as a child because all he had to do was be bruce's partner and hope to live up to the title. bruce had no reason to trauma dump on him or talk about his worries and concerns at length with him because it was never supposed to be dick's job to field those worries and concerns in the first place. he was a child. the only thing bruce wanted to do was to help channel his emotions through an outlet and provide him with a home to grow up in. but when you become an adult often that dynamic shifts. you're still not responsible for fielding those worries and concerns but you can perhaps be trusted with them. that's why i like the framing in batman #408 of dick now being a man. it's a subtle way to frame the double-edged sword of adulthood. the world is in your hands now but so will be the horrors that come with it. coming to terms with the real world that bruce lives in should be hard for dick. coming to terms with who bruce is when he's not perfect should be hard. coming to terms with how quietly bruce kept his grief because he did not see fit to overwhelm a child with it should be hard. that dichotomy of dick both wanting to be bruce's brother and his son should form the crux of their conflict with each other because you can't hope to be someone's equal and someone's protected at the same time in that kind of relationship. for dick to transition into the position of equal he has to expose himself to the fact that bruce is not in fact an idol but someone irrevocably human. and that should interfere significantly with his head and his own standards for himself

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Joker doodles I’ve accumulated

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bruce Wayne fucked his partners through the mattress—and it depended on who and why. If you know he’s Batman, then he’d fuck for stress relief, to uncoil the sickening knot in his belly. However, if you’re unaware of his nighttime activities and believe you’d just lucked up meeting Bruce Wayne, then he’d fuck for ego. He’s got a point to prove: all those years as a recluse hadn’t dulled his ability to grant a lady a good time; that the stories of his youthful adventures are true. (Though his ego bleeds over into Batman as well since he wonders if he’s too old to still be the Dark Knight. If he’s lost his edge).

Bruce’s stamina is insane. He’d have you spread on your belly while he drove his cock into you. One hand enclosed around your throat, the other encircling your waist, and his lips grazing over your ear. Warm gusts of air caressing your cheek with each huff and grunt. The faint scent of his cologne lingering within the atmosphere, though it had been toppled by the aroma of sweat and sex. “Fuck,” he gritted out,” so tight f’me, doll. Only for me. Mine, aren’t you?” There was pride in being the one to undo Bruce Wayne, to make him cuss and grunt like a caveman, to draw out his Gotham accent. He was usually so put-together and driven.

Time warped and melted whenever Bruce had you beneath him. Despite his age, (don’t let him hear that) he could fuck for hours, content to drive his cum back into your hole until he came again. In fact, he enjoyed the slickness. There was something about keeping you beneath him that soothed the territorial monster caged within him like Mr. Hyde. Rarely could you lure the possessive, emerald eyed, envious beast out; Bruce was old and had dealt with his fair share of women seeking an emotional response. But with the perfect concoction of circumstances could you shatter the manacles binding the dominating, jealous, spiteful side of him—and it was wonderful.

Dick Grayson (Dixon’s version) preferred to let his lover work for it. There was a tantalizing element to gazing at his partner while she straddled him, and attempted to sink down into his cock. Dick wasn’t girth-y like Jason or Bruce (nor as unshaven). No, Dick was slim and long—and pretty. Dick was shaven and trimmed, smooth and hairless if he could help it. He never liked to offer up unshaven goods; he thought it was rude.

“God, you. . . you ride like a pro,” he breathed out, nigh gasping as though he’d run a race beside Usain Bolt. A sheen of sweated coated his toned physique, and a scarlet blush left a fiery trail from his cheeks down to his neck. “Don’t stop till I say.” Dick is more selfish in bed than Jason. Unlike Jason, Dick knows he’s cute—pretty, even. He’s confident both in himself and his ability to be selfish and still make you cum. . . hard. He won’t hesitate to assume control if he’s not liking your rhythm, or if he just wants to be a little shit and knock your orgasm off kilter. “Oh, were you going to cum? Sorry. Didn’t notice.”

Speaking of orgasms, Dick cums beautifully, even when he’d rather be described as ‘’manly’’ and handsome. He couldn’t restrain the tremble of his muscular thighs, or quell the furnace roaring inside his belly, or freeze the stars bursting behind the paleness of his eyelids. “I know, pretty baby. I know. Tight, aren’t I? Let it out for me,” you cooed, caressing his sweat-slick, inky black curls. Dick nodded quick and desperately, coal black lashes falling over his oceanic eyes. “Yes. Yes. That’s it. Gonna cum again. Just keep going.” The power he’d stolen returned with a vengeance. He’d gone limp beneath you. Fucked out, his breaths tremulous and stuttered. Naturally, Dick’s palms found purchase upon your breasts, pinching and flicking your nipples before he exerted the last of his strength to lean forward and suckle one into his mouth.

(There’s hints of a mommy kink if you squint hard enough).

Jason Todd loved to see his partner deep-throat his cock. It’s a personal pleasure of his, the one time he allows himself to be selfish during sex. He’s not sure why it’s fascinating to him. Perhaps the sheer primality of watching you struggle to swallow his thickness intrigues him, excites him, causes the hairs on his forearms to stand at attention and the nerves within his body to buzz like a million bees trapped beneath his skin.“That’s right, baby, keep going. Till I see tears,” he murmured, as his large hands slithered up into your nape and tightened in your hair.” Show me how much you love me, baby.”

“What a beauty.” Jason’s chocolate smeared irises tipped backward, his slender hips bucking upward into the warm cavern of your throat, his cock spewing viscous ropes of pearlescent cum. Jason’s frame fell slack against the sofa. Sated. Only you could loosen the tautness in his shoulders like a ball of yarn. Boy, did he adore you.” I hope you can go all night. Cuz I got some steam I been needin’ t’ blow off.”

[spicy-apple-pie]

Bruce didn't come here to fuck around

(also why is alex so hard to draw?)

Commission Info / Kofi (members get comics a week early)

[candy-ac3]

One of my fave things is making crossovers and drawing art of them before I finish writing the story and so there's like zero context and it's the weirdest ship like Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Bruce Wayne

Anyways guess my newest crossover idea

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[batsandbirdbrains]

Okay but I want a post-Spyral fic like

The one where Nightwing flinches whenever Batman raises a hand

Dick is just always convinced that Bruce is going to hit him. That if Dick does something he doesn’t agree with, he’ll hit him to get him back in line. He gets nervous when Bruce raises his voice, in and out of costume. He rarely visits the manor, because his brothers are all mad at him anyway and think that Dick willingly faked death. They don’t even know that he actually died. They don’t understand why Dick can hardly eat solid food and why he can’t swallow pills at all anymore without having a panic attack.

The only one who wants to be around him anymore is Damian. Damian is the only one who doesn’t call him a liar, who isn’t mad at him. Damian misses him, visits him in Blüdhaven all the time, tells the others off whenever they start complaining or saying mean things about Dick.

And Dick takes Damian out for ice cream mostly when he visits, because he can let the ice cream melt on his tongue, he doesn’t have to swallow it while it’s still hard. Dick practically lives off of soup and smoothies and cereal that’s soaked in milk so long it becomes a soggy slop. Whenever he attends dinner at the manor (and it rarely happens these days, only when Damian really begs), he picks at his food and pushes it around his plate. Damian is the only one who realizes he’s not actually eating. And Alfred, of course, but Alfred knows the truth, and he just doesn’t know how to help, but he doesn’t want to draw attention to it if it will make Dick upset.

Dick relies heavily on the OG Titans, who all rally around him, because they’re the only ones Dick tells the whole story too. And none of them ever really liked Bruce all that much, they all saw the bruises Dick used to show up to the tower with after spending time with the Bat.

When Jason asks in a snarky voice why Roy is still hanging around with Dick after everything he did, Roy shuts it down quick.

“He’s my friend,” Roy says defensively. “And I know how shitty of a dad Bruce is, so I won’t buy into whatever story he told the rest of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason demands.

“Why don’t you ask Dick yourself?”

Jason forgot that Roy was Dick’s friend first, that they have a whole history Jason will never know the entirety of. But calling Bruce a shitty dad? He knew the OG Titans didn’t like Batman, but he never knew the full reason why. He’d never really asked. Maybe it was time to.

And maybe he and Tim show up to Dick’s apartment unannounced one day, but Dick is having a bad day. He’s been having a few bad days, and Donna has been staying with him because the others are all worried about him. And they find their brother practically catatonic on the floor of his apartment living room being held tightly by Donna, who’s rocking him and whispering stories in his ear from when they were young and reckless and ridiculous. Garth is in the kitchen making soup, because they all know Dick won’t eat anything else right now, if he’ll be able to keep anything down at all. Roy and Wally aren’t there, the boys all take turns staying with Donna in shifts. They try to get Donna in on the rotation, but she refuses to leave Dick’s side until he’s better.

“Get out,” she hisses at them quietly, glaring at them as they stand in the doorway. “He’s in no mood to see you right now.”

“What right do you have-”

“We’re the Wonder Twins, remember?” she asks, her voice full of snark. “I have every right.”

Garth turns the stove down and covers the pot, then goes to escort them out of the building.

“He’s having an episode,” he tells them gently. “He wouldn’t want you to see him like that.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tim asks.

“That’s for him to decide if he wants to tell you, not me. Just go home. Please.” But before they leave, Garth gives them a hard look. “But you’ve given him nothing but grief since he came back. Don’t expect him to open up right away.”

“He lied to us!”

“Did he?” Garth asks them, and it makes them both falter. “Or did someone else lie about him to you?”

The two look at each other before turning back to Garth, who rolls his eyes.

“There’s a reason the original Titans could never stand Batman,” Garth tells them, letting out a huff of a laugh. “Maybe start there.”

What happens after that? No idea! I just like the angst of it all.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

Lone Warrior pt.2

summary :reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

a/n : tysm for the love on the first post hope u enjoy !!33

part 1 , part 3

" Y/n ?" Damian asks as he turns to Alfred , his face morphs into a mask of confusion . He has resided in his father's mansion for three years, and never has he heard of someone by that name ever being mentioned . He stared at Alfred curiously as he shuffled through the door and steeled himself to sit on the dusty bed .

Another reason that bewildered Damian to the core - he knew Alfred personally tended and cleaned all of Wayne Manor regardless if a space was used often or not so for this room to be neglected in this state itches at his mind .

" Y/n is one of your older adopted siblings Master Damian." Alfred begins . Damian huffs - ' Seriously, another charity case his father had to take pity on ? ' he thinks as his mind grew bored - the initial interest being lost . " Y/n was adopted around the time Master Jason had passed, and before Master Drake joined us," Alfred continued , paying no heed to Damian's uninterested look.

He rolls his eyes , " That's nothing special, Pennyworth. Besides, where are they if they're my supposed adopted sibling ?" Damian asks pointedly . Alfred goes silent for a few moments , wringing his worn hands together as he looks everywhere but at Damian .

" We do not know where Master Y/N is " he finishes - voice going soft . Damian quirks up an eyebrow, " Thats insane Pennyworth surely we have an inkling where they are - hell, we know where Jason is whenever he's being all pissy and distant !!" Damian exclaims .

" Master Damian , Master Y/N left when she was 14 without saying anything to anyone," Alfred explains as he stares at your bed with a face of longing . Silence draws out between them - Damian is too shocked to say anything . " Did father not bother to look for them ?" He asks carefully.

Another beat of awkward silence passes between them before Alfred answers with a quiet ' no ' . Nothing is said between them again for a while . " Why " Damian questions in disbelief - it's too uncharacteristic of his father to simply forget one of his own children - he is batman - batman always has a plan for everything - always thinks of possibilities- always solves anomalies - so why hadn't father cared enough about this ? About you ?

" I am afraid Master Name and Master Bruce never clicked seeing as ...they never once conversed for the scarce years she lived with us " Alfred shakily answers - it as if the thought of you haunts him deeply - maybe you do - maybe you do haunt the old man after all in his eyes you were the only normal child he had the pleasure of raising in Bruce's ward.

Damian says nothing , just walks around the room until he stops at an old portrait of a young girl - what he presumes a younger you . It's worn down from the years and pile of dust . Damian takes a good look at you , notes your dead eyes - dead eyes that reflect indifference to the world around you with hints of pain and endless suffering burrow within . Your hair is loosely tied behind with a ribbon behind . You are noticeably not smiling , even when you hold a giant ice cream cone in your hands - just a dead pan look staring back at him.

His hand caresses the portrait with care - he wonders what you are like . ' Were you someone kind ?' . ' Someone who takes and cares only for themselves? ' . 'Were you a born genius or hard worker type ? ' . 'A hero or maybe a villain ? ' . ' Were you a go with the flow person or practical?' .

' Why were you so unheard of ? ' , ' Why hadn't Father , Grayson, or Drake told him about you ?' So many questions he wants to demand but all left unanswered . " Tell me about them, Pennyworth." Damian demands , turning around to look at the old man .

Pennyworth sighs as he runs his hands along the sheets , " They were quiet - not the awkward type of quiet , the observing type - they didn't say much about themselves - only briefly mentioned her parents and life before . She was an incredible student , straight A's and incredibly independent .....in fact - I've never had to clean up Master Y/N because she insisted I hadn't because of my elderly age ....... she loved gardening and making little water fountains for the strays and the birds that used to come by . She loved apple tarts and loved to swim, but if K recalled properly , she hated whenever people talked about Arkham Asylum . " Alfrdd recounts.

Damian takes it all in - you sound complex - an enigma , sound so unlike himself and his siblings but alike at the same time . " Why did they hate Arkham Asylum?" He asks , intrigued . ' Were you close to Tood ?' , ' Had something happened to you for you to be there ?'.

" She never said - just ... expressed how inhumane Arkham Asylum is, " he finishes . Silence passes between them as Damian ponders on the response . " I must leave now Master Damian to prepare dinner," Alfred excuses himself as he leaves the room promptly.

Damian pays him no mind , eyes glued to your portrait with determination. There is something inside him that prompts him to take it - a siren call begging him to find you and if he's learnt anything in life - he knows it's best not to ignore a gut feeling .

With determination , Damian swipes your portrait, hiding it in his pocket before leaving .

Y/N sits on a rooftop , overlooking the vast skyline of distant skyscrapers . Each moment is precise as she she carefully tracks her target, leaving a store . Y/N uses the advantage of the setting sun's bright light to align her sniper's magnification on the target's neck . - A perfect disguise as the target wouldn't see her coming unless he wants to risk his eyesight .

The gun of the sniper is pressed against her cheek while her trained hand rests on the trigger as she patiently awaits the perfect moment . The target fishes out his phone and begins to converse while walking past an open dumpster - here, she carefully takes point and shoots .

She watches with a muted look as her target halts in their actions , blood spills from his head as he falls dumbly into the dumpster . " Great job agent 15 , a job well executed," a voice buzzes through her earpiece . Y/N tucks her sniper back into its discreet brief case before answering, " Thank you, agent 17 , permission to clock out for today's mission ?" Y/N asks into her intercom , the sun setting behind her in a beautiful arch as the wind blows past her .

" Permission granted , please return to base 15 " agent 17's motherly voice chimes in before cutting out . Y/N takes a good look at the setting sun - thoughts of her mother and father come to her mind - she wishes - she wishes she can cradle them both and comfort them with the knowledge that their daughter is putting a stop to crime but she knows it's wishful thinking - she knows mothers far too insane and father has long forgotten her but still - she's determined to prevent what's happened to her , happen to another person. Determined to save an innocent life from walking down the road she has .

With that , Y/N looks back at the setting sun's one last time before jumping off the rooftop and disappearing into the evening's abyss .

Damian sits in front of the bat computer as he busily types away . The batcomputer scans through hundreds of possible pictures of what Y/N would be grown up to look like now , another monitor is combing through the internet archives trying to find any presence of her .

He groans in frustration as a monitor displays another 'error' - ' how can a computer capable of decrypting alien tech be so incapable and useless when it comes to finding a missing person?' Damian thinks as he runs another program.

He leans back in the seat - exhausted and tired , it has been three hours and he has yet to find anything about you - not even your old school records, not even your own birth - it's like you were seamlessly erased from the earth and it does nothing but fuel his intrigue and nagging gut feeling to find you.

' Were you trafficked?' , ' Were you murdered and thrown away to rot in a ditch?' , ' Or used in some illegal organ transfer ?' So many thoughts course through his mind violently like a tornado.

He silently curses Bruce and Pennyworth in his mind -' how can they possibly allow a 14 year old girl to run away ? ' . ' What made her run away in the first place ?' . So many questions but no answers .

Damian was suddenly ripped out of his dilemma when a monitor began to go off . His head eagerly whipped towards it - almost snapping his neck at the pace . There on the screen , displayed a blurry security footage of a figure leaping off a building and disappearing into an alleyway along with your portrait from earlier - a 40% guaranteed match as the software compares both hair properties and the blurry closeups of your faces .

Damian's eyes widened in eagerness as he enlarged the footage and immediately ran it through software to find the footage's location . He feels his heart beat rapidly - this could be it - he could have found you ! - he might actually have done something, not even batman could do. Pride and accomplishment swell within him as he watches the loading screen complete and there - his answer to all his past questions display as bright as day , ' Russia ,Rostov-on-Don ' .

" Russia ?" He murmurs a bit confused . ' How did a 14 year old girl get to Russia of all places ?' He questions . He looks back at the blurry footage of what might be your figure leaping off the building and disappearing into an alleyway . Whatever the reason is , he is going to find out - he is going to take this sliver of hope and find you himself ." I am coming for you, sister," Damian declares as he promptly begins his preparations for Russia.

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incorrect quotes

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[hypewinter]

Hear me out! Danny finds his human form slowly getting more eldrich as he gets older (and more powerful) and ends up going to Gotham where people are way less likely to ask questions!

Sadly when the people of Gotham see Danny, oops my shadow has eyes now, Fenton they just assume he's gonna be a new Rouge!

Que the bat fam watching Danny waiting for him to make his move, over-analyzing everything he does. Mans can't even buy a new laptop without Bruce breathing down his neck about it

This would be an issue if Danny wasn't such a little troll, and he starts buying more obviously ominous things only to openly use them in improperly boring and normal ways. Like buys a death lazer and can be seen using it to make toast, buys a cursed box full of death themed artifacts and uses it as a coffee table, that kinda stuff.

Every time the bat's assume 'this is it!' And gets ready to take him down, only to see Danny setting up a new 'coat rack' made of kriptonite

Even better when they see him tinkering on some kind of doomsday device, the kind that looks super evil and dangerous and even has a red count down timer on the front and- it's a fucking air frier again! He already has three! Why does he keep making air friers?! Obviously this must be some kind of scheme

I raise you: Danny starts selling his things out to random citizens (they've all been intensely screened). The bats panic thinking this is an attempt to cripple Gotham in one fell swoop. Nope. Ms. Randall just really needed a new air purifier and Danny had a toxin dispenser that was just collecting dust.

I imagine though that he might start to notice that the bats are focusing on him a little too much which is a problem considering there are things going down in Gotham that actually need their attention. But at the same time, our resident ghost boy isn't ready to stop being a menace just yet. So what does he do? Kill too birds with one stone.

Whenever Danny catches wind of a new plot going down, he does something to draw the bats's attention to it. Two Face planning a robbery? Suddenly Danny is showing up to the bank everyday to work on the vault (he offered to reinforce it for free). The bats get so suspicious they focus hard on the bank and discover Two Face's plot before he can do anything.

The bats pat themselves on the back while Danny giggles in the background. Wonder how long it will take for them to figure out what's going on.