Bjurnberg’s Writing

Shining red scales leap from the waters directly at this bear blocking the path.

Danny is a young adult studying at Gotham University. He leads a quiet, normal life, just the way he likes it

For some reason, the Waynes took notice of him. They investigated him (why?) and analyzed his DNA (how?!)

It turns out he's Daddy Bruce's biokid. Now those arrogant entitled people won't leave him alone, calling him “their brother” and “my son”

Thank God he's legally an adult, so they can't force him to live with them. Danny wants nothing to do with them, but for some reason his refusal only attracts them more (and one of them claims that all this serendipity and his attitude is a ploy to get closer to them?! Fuck off!)

The reason they took his DNA is because Tim noticed Danny looked suspiciously like Bruce, and was a bit trigger-happy after some past incidents with lookalikes. He didn’t necessarily think the chances were high that something was amiss, but better safe than sorry.

But then he found Danny was Bruce’s kid, and things went off the rails. Several surreptitious background checks later, and he decided to meet up with their new brother.

***

“Is this seat taken?” asked an unfamiliar voice, the other young man already sitting down across from Danny at the cafe table and setting his bag down beside him.

“No…?”

“Good. I’m Tim Drake.”

Danny’s eyebrow shot up. “The billionaire? Yeah, right. What’s next, ‘Danny, I urgently need you to buy in on my next big corporate endeavor, you’ll make millions’?”

Tim flushed. “No, really. I’m not trying to scam you. I actually am Tim Drake. And I need to talk to you.”

Danny began to edge towards the corner of his seat, but Tim continued, seemingly oblivious to his obvious desire to leave. “Look, this is going to sound weird, but… it turns out you’re my brother.”

Danny snorted. “Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”

“No, seriously.” He pulled out a sheet of paper from his bag, unfolded it, and slid it across the table. Danny’s eyes flicked across it, catching upon a few words such as “Bruce Wayne” and “paternal match”.

Okay, this was getting creepy. “How the hell did you even get this? I sincerely doubt my DNA is on public record.”

Tim bulldozed past the question. “I’ve already taken the liberty of informing the others and setting up a time for you to meet them this weekend. Just show up at Wayne Manor at lunchtime and Alfred’ll let you in. Or I can send a car to pick you up at—”

Danny stood up abruptly, cutting him off. “No thank you. I like my family plenty much, and I don’t need you fruitloops butting in. Good day.”

He bundled up his belongings and left the cafe in a rush.

Maddie answers, “HI SWEETIE!! It’s a bit early for your usual call, is everything alright?”

Danny: “Hey Mom, just a moment, is Dad there too? Can you put it on speaker?”

Maddie: “Of course, here. JACK!! DANNY’S CALLING!!

Jack: “DANNO!!! HOW’S CLASSES??”

Danny, smirking at the Waynes around him now: “Oh classes are great! Gotham University truly is everything it’s cracked up to be. But I’m calling to let you know I’m being harassed.”

Maddie and Jack gasp, Tim tries to say: “Wait no, we aren’t-”

Jack can be heard running away shouting: “I’LL GET THE GAV READY!! WE’RE COMING TO SAVE YOU DANNY!!”

And Maddie asks, voice like steel: “Who’s harassing you? What do you need from us? We can call the Dean and your school counselor.”

Danny: “Thank you, calling them would be nice. I’ve already told both what’s going on, but more voices being heard will help them realize it’s serious. As for who… Timothy Drake Wayne stole my DNA and is convinced I’m Bruce Wayne’s bio-son. More of the Wayne family have threatened to take me by force to their Mansion against my will.”

Maddie: “WHAT?! No that- that can’t be right. No. No. We’ll be there soon as we’re able to sort this out. I’ll make those calls on the way. DO NOT let them take you anywhere. You remember the self defense I taught you?”

Danny, grinning even wider at the nervous looks the Waynes are giving each other: “Of course Mom. But fighting on campus would lose me my scholarship and I’d rather not do that.”

Maddie: “Well then, I suppose if they find you off campus that’s a different matter isn’t it?”

Danny and Maddie share an almost identical dark chuckle, and Tim is having some regrets.

After hanging up Danny looks up at the people who claim to be his family, and says, “I love the parents who raised me and they love me. I don’t want to be part of your family. I’ve told you to leave me alone many times, but now you’ve got more of your family involved so I’m getting mine involved too. You escalated first. But I will give you a fair warning. If the rumors are true and the Waynes fund Batman, pass on the message that my Dad is a bit of a crazy driver. He drives a battle tank-”

Dick cuts in: “Battle tank??!!”

Danny continues like he didn’t hear: “-and it’s kinda like if the Batmobile was an RV, so it might cause a little bit of property damage. But he won’t shoot the bazooka unless-”

Jason: “Bazooka?!”

I’ve been imagining this story prompt for a week now and am finally writing it down

Danny and Tim are in the same class (college or high school idc) and Tim has a raging fever from some infection he got tumbling around Gotham rooftops and alleys. It’s a filthy city, infections are gonna happen (does he have a spleen? dealers choice).

Danny, Tim, and another classmate are put on a team project for the duration of the class, and the other notices Tim is flushed and sweaty and calls him out for it like “Hey dude I think you’re super sick you should go to the nurse” and puts a hand against Tim’s forehead to test for fever. Tim’s too exhausted to protest. He’s legit almost passing out but good at hiding it.

“Wow he’s really burning up. Danny, feel this.”

“Nah I can never tell,” Danny says. “I run cold so checking temp isn’t something I’m good at.”

“Well maybe that’ll help him wake up a little,” and the other classmate grabs Danny’s hand and puts it against Tim’s cheek.

Tim sighs and presses his face into Danny’s hand like a cat. Danny blushes. Other Classmate laughs and shoves Danny closer to Tim, who absolutely buries his face against Danny’s neck and drags him into a vice-grip-hug.

Danny is sputtering and blushing tomato red.

The teacher finally notices and walks over. Whole class is watching, laughing, whispering. Other Classmate explains to teacher that Tim is super feverish and teacher tells Danny to take Tim to the nurse.

Danny tries to move away but Tim holds on tighter and Danny eventually just sighs and lifts Tim into a princess carry (making more classmates giggle or whistle) before walking out of the room to go find the nurse’s office on campus.

Ectoplasm and Lazarus water aren't the same thing, not even close.

They are two completely different substances, one is an interdimensional substance that holds the multiverse together and exists in every dimension at once through leaks and bursts from natural portals and thin spots. While the other's origin is unclear but seems to only exist in a cluster of dimensions collectively within the DCverse orbit.

While some have liked the two substances together due to their color and associations with death, they aren't the same.

He was exhausted. These creepy shadowy people had been chasing him all over the city for hours. They didn’t trigger his ghost sense but kept popping up out of nowhere like they could teleport. And more kept showing up! All he’d wanted was to take some pictures of the cool gothic architecture for Sam.

“Lazarus was a guy who,” the blue and black one starts but gets interrupted by a smaller one in red with yellow belts.

“Green shiny goop! Like if neon were green instead of red, like your eyes!”

“That’s ectoplasm,” Danny waves his hands as if to say Duh!

“I don’t care what name you call it,” blue and black said, “it’s dangerous and you’re infected and we need you to calm down and come with us.”

“I AM CALM!!” Danny shouted, “Or, I WAS calm and now you guys are freaking me out! And I’m not infected! Ectoplasm isn’t a disease, it’s like my blood or something? Maybe my cells are made of it. I dunno and I’m not gonna let you creepy shadow dudes arrest me because One: ACAB, and Two: I like my blood where it is thank you.”

“It’s not blood,” the big guy with a massive black cape said. He spoke in a tone like he was trying to keep the peace but was also impatient and tired of Danny acting like a child.

Too bad Mister Cape, I am a child so myeh!

“It is a dangerous substance that harms those who come in contact with it. We’ve seen this before. The glow in your eyes is a very specific shade of green.”

I love that dangerous old grandpa butler. He’s a fantastic background character that can do a variety of cool things or just be a steady support depending on the comic or episode or fic.

It’s common in fandom to make him more supportive and more badass and more knowledgeable than his comic runs, and he loves Bruce and all the Batfam immensely.

But, well, he often supports Bruce through terrible decisions that hurt everyone else. Enabling actions most adults would know to walk away from or prevent. I know this is highly dependent on the author and comics are telling a story and people are imperfect in many ways, and retcons happen all the time

BUT!! This is where my dpxdc brain chimes in:

A “what if Alfred was a ghost” idea but his Obsession is Bruce. Not the family, not the Waynes, not the estate or his job… just Bruce.

What if he raised this kid after Martha and Thomas died, watched him become Batman, and then the first, or third, or 12th time Batman gets hurt in the field and Alfred has to drive out to pick him up (specifically thinking of that Father’s Day comic) he just… gets killed. He’s an old man, after all, and whether or not he had training he couldn’t win against a whole group of men trying to beat Batman into the dirt.

But his ghost could.

And Alfred Pennyworth was not going to let death stop him from looking after Bruce Wayne.

Now, I figure this event would happen before Dick came on the scene, so his only thought was Bruce. Get Bruce home. Get Bruce’s wounds cleaned and wrapped. Don’t tell Bruce he died. That would only complicate Bruce’s already strange and difficult life. Just take care of Bruce. Support Bruce. Help Bruce. Make Bruce’s life easier in any way he could. Bruce is all that matters.

Now of course when the kids come along Alfred loves them too. But they aren’t his Obsession. When Bruce hurts his children, emotionally or physically, Alfred doesn’t approve - he will certainly voice his disapproval - but he doesn’t leave either. He stays. He always stays.

Because he must look after Bruce.

Danny's parents are wanting Danny home for the holidays, but Danny really really really does not want to go. Danny barely acknowlages that he has a family, so Tim's not sure what the big deal is. So Tim is trying to convince him to go, until Danny fires back with:

"No! This is the perfect set up of a Hallmark Movie! Do you want me to go back to my home town, leaving behind my buisness man partner, and bumping into my teenage hood fling, falling back in love with them and leaving said buisness man so I can help them run a Christmas tree farm or a ranch or something?"

But then Danny gets a call that his dad had a heart attack. Jack is in the hospital.

AKA "Red Robin jokingly says I'll protect you to a civilian Danny Fenton, unaware this is a ghost proposal. Danny, also unaware this is a ghost proposal, accidentally accepts. So, uh... cue the awkward honeymoon phase?" Dead Tired DPxDC prompt idea!

Or: Tim Drake is a simp with a helping of gratuitously hot Danny Fenton

Red Robin is a disaster bisexual on a good day and a desperate simp every other day, or that's what Jason tells him. But seeing Daniel Fenton - Gotham-U aerospace genius and terrifyingly hot kinda-sorta-crush - about to get mugged feels like a good opportunity for Tim to show he's above all that. He's a hardened, experienced vigilante. He can do this.

Except Danny throws a punch hard enough to drop one of the muggers like a bag of bricks. His blue eyes almost glow in the dark, expression curling into something snarky and surprisingly self-confident. (Tim absolutely does not find that attractive, no. He's a professional.) Red Robin drops down into the alley with familiar ease, bo staff already swinging on the second thug. Danny's on the third one like an animal, slamming the poor guy into the wall so hard his head ricochets off the wall and he slumps in Danny's hold.

He's only wearing fitted white tee and jeans, the same outfit he was earlier on campus, so Tim can see the way his biceps flex and his pecs strain the chest of his tee when his shoulders roll back.

"Wow," Danny drawls. His midwestern accent should sound tacky, but Tim feels a flush burn his pale skin. Thank god for masks. "I was almost a goner there. Thanks for the save, Red."

Tim thinks very, very hard so he doesn't stutter. He's sarcastic and quick-witted, the smartest detective since Batman. He can flirt. (And maybe he's using his Red Robin mask for confidence, but who cares? The amount of times he's gotten tongue tied when trying to ask Danny out, despite sharing four gen ed classes with him, makes him want to claw his eyes out in embarrassment. Tim needs this win.)

"Seems more like an assist than a save. But I can be your knight in shining armor any day." Oh, god. That was the worst pick up line. Tim wishes one of the thugs would suddenly wake up and fight back just so he could get distracted from his utter failure of attempted flirting. Just as Tim's about to backtrack, apologize and say he's just joking, Danny laughs. A giddy, I-can't-believe-I'm-talking-to-you laugh that Tim's personally familiar with. He's suddenly dumbstruck by the idea that Danny might want to flirt with him back.

"Yeah? You'll be my knight?" Danny smiles earnestly, the usual nonchalant bad boy expression softening into something awkwardly endearing.

"Yeah," Tim agrees breathlessly. Jokingly, he adds, "I'll protect you."

As if Danny needs it. Clearly, he's more than able to protect himself, considering how easily he cleared two absurdly jacked muggers. He also has the intelligence of a potentially terrifying Rogue. And he's hot with his tight t-shirts and piercings and perfectly messy hair. And he's funny, matches Tim's sarcasm with his own snark, unashamed of the things he cares about with a passion. Anyways.

"I'll walk you home?" Tim means to sound confident and assured, like how he normally is as Red Robin, but it comes out almost bashful. And he is bashful... bashing his damn head against a wall. Ugh. Get it together, man! Danny laughs again and it's like the stars twinkling or something. It's beautiful. He wants to hear it all the time.

"Yeah. That's-uh, I'd like that." His crush smiles, a flush starting to dust over his ears and cheeks, and Tim turns to tie up the muggers so Danny can't see the goofy smile that takes over his face.

(The next morning, after taking Danny home, Tim Drake wakes up to a tattoo on his left hand. Specifically his wedding finger. The tattooed band is somehow glowing green with incomprehensible runes encircling his finger just beneath the knuckle. What. The. Fuck.)

Yes, he was postponing his crisis about whatever just happened until he could go see Clockwork and demand answers, what of it?

Except... When he went to school, he saw Tim- a guy he shared a few gen-ed classes with and he would hesitate to call a friend but damn was he hot- with a band-aid on his wedding finger on his left hand, and the tattoo-ring (more tattoo than ring, the opposite of his) glowed through the band-aid, pulsing slowly in time with Danny's heart.

Fuck.

Tim is Red Robin?

How hadn't he seen this before? In hindsight, it was so obvious, especially with his experience in the teenage vigilante field, but Tim was doing better at hiding it than he had.

Same dark eyebags that looked more like tattoos than biological function, though.

Fuck... He had to talk to Tim about it, didn't he. Well... He didn't have any answers... He could postpone it until he got some answers.

What day of the week..? Thursday? Just avoid Tim the rest of the day and the next one, too, travel to the Ghost Zone over the weekend and get some answers, and then... What? Pull him aside and ask to talk after classes on Monday?

They had another shared class later that day and Danny was so caught up in his thoughts he crashed right into him walking through the door. Both men jolted in surprise, Danny reached out to steady Tim but - displaying a complete lack of Red Robin’s usual fluid grace - his legs buckled, and Danny somehow ended up holding Tim in a manner that looked like he dipped him at the end of a dance.

Also, it's not just humans who don't want them in their homes. Most ghosts also don't like them in their lairs/haunts. And often react much the same way humans might react to a bat.

(Are ghost rabies a thing? I'm gonna say ghost rabies is a thing.) After all, while the blobs themselves might have developed immunity to most ecto-contagions they definitely come into contact with due to their ecological role, the ghosts whose homes they've entered very much are not. And while not every blob is infected with something, in fact most aren't because their bodies destroy those contagions pretty quickly after consumption, any blob could be. So there is a health risk from blob bites.

There's also a hygiene thing to it. Ghosts usually clean up the stale ecto around their homes and dump it somewhere more remote for the blobs to feast. So having blobs in your lair/haunt might cause others and/or yourself to wonder how well you're cleaning that the blobs even want to come in. (Even th0ough a lot of times it really is just total coincidence of a bumbling blob.

Anyway, enter Danny. Who didn't get the full run down on ghost culture until much later after becoming a ghost. Whose first and primary opinion of the blobs is that they are just cute little guys. Much nicer than the assholes coming out of the portal constantly ready to throw down for no reason.

Where other ghosts are at least a little freaked out being in close proximity to them (and humans are generally a lot freaked out by ghosts over all), Danny is just absolutely unfazed and even a bit enamored by them.

Blobs in Wayne Manor! Just, so many blobs. Damian hadn't seen them before but like a muscle you didn't know you had, he's able to train his eyes (soul?) to focus in on them.

So technically Damian grew up around the blobs, hence why he has an easier time learning how to see them. Back in the League, they were just always there, on the very periphery of his senses. It's one of the things that made coming to Gotham so difficult for him. Something was missing, sensory input he hadn't realized he was getting suddenly vanished, but he couldn't tell what it was. Made him all sorts of anxious, unsettled, and paranoid.

There was a moment, coming back to the infested manor, that briefly felt like coming home.

Then Danny comes in, realizes the kid is subconsciously aware of the blobs, and gives him a gentle nudge to bring that subconscious awareness up to conscious awareness.

He got dunked in a pit where they feed so it was kind of inevitable. He doesn’t know that’s what the Pit Rage is.

Ra’s al Ghul also has ghost rabies, he’s just used to controlling the emotional outbursts because he’s had it for literal centuries.

So I know it's usually a joke in media (and as always, if that's what someone would rather do here, far be it from me to discourage), but in the real world rabies is a terrifying illness with practically a 100% mortality rate after presenting symptoms. If memory serves, even the post-exposure prophylaxis treatment is an absolutely miserable experience of rounds of shots that hurt like a bitch and have a strong chance to make you very sick as well because the virus is that damn bad.

Vaccines may have slashed infections to fractions of their historic numbers, but there's a reason feral animal populations used to be such a big deal. A rabid animal among a human population center used to be a local plague waiting to happen. An animal behaving strangely used to be grounds for rounding all the kids up inside and calling the authorities to either catch or kill it. Dog catchers were basically public sanitation workers.

This to say, if we're calling it ghost rabies, I think it needs to be on that same level of severity. We can stretch it out over a much longer life(death?)span to explain why Ra's and Jason aren't already dead. Or perhaps the fact that they are still alive keeps them limping along when they should have long since ended/faded/shattered/whatever Dead Ghost lore you wanna use. Maybe do a bit of tweaking with ghost medicine if you wanna give either of them a chance of pulling through after treatment. (Or go full angst and go the "give him as comfortable a death as possible" route.)

However it is, if we're gonna give them "ghost rabies", I think we should lean into the severity of it. Make it bad. Make it grim. It's not a joke, it's rabies.

Make Damian all subdued as he pulls Bruce aside to deliver the news. "Todd might have ghost rabies. Ghostly or not, rabies is still rabies; and if it is, he is already symptomatic. Father, he needs treatment, but even with it..."

Danny has already gone off to inform the Yeti's of not one, but 2 potential cases of ghost rabies in undead humans. Cause Danny is a Blob Relocator, not a Healer. He knows to pass this off to some actual doctors.

@ailithnight I like your thinking. Especially the “it affects ghost cores” because Jason and Ra’s don’t have cores - they aren’t dead, or halfa, they were brought back to life by the Pits. So their bodies have infected ectoplasm which is what the ghost rabies is clinging to, which plays havoc with their emotional states because ghosts are mostly emotion and memory.

But WHEN they finally die they’d immediately become ghosts and have their cores fully infected which would be a problem for other ghosts nearby (like a ghostly zombie virus? Or more like Chronic Wasting Disease in deer that wonder into populated areas).

So maybe Frostbite&Co at the Far Frozen do some tests with their kidnapped no-longer-dead humans and come to an interesting conclusion:

They can extract the infected ectoplasm to prevent the ghost rabies from consuming their cores when they die.

It will be a long and painful process - think multiple lumbar punctures and more needles in smaller muscles groups, followed by a chemotherapy style treatment to flush any remaining infection from the bloodstream.

And that’s the good news.

Because Jason is still young. Still within his natural lifespan. He will survive the ecto-extraction, and he’s stubborn enough to work through the therapy (physical and mental) to rebuild the damages it’ll cause to his body and emotional state.

But Ra’s won’t make it. There’s no way. He’s over 600 years old. Ectoplasm is the only thing keeping his body going. And of course the Yetis comment on the fact Ra’s can’t be allowed to ever become a ghost because it would be detrimental to all he comes in contact with.

Naturally he’s going to cause problems on purpose when he gets the news.

He’d make some biting remarks about the Yetis being dogs trying to put him down instead. They won’t let him keep using the Pits to live, and they won’t let him die either, so what’s left? Extermination? He’s the Demon’s Head! He’s the one who decides who lives and dies!

Damian and Talia know Ra’s best. They’re the only ones who could fight and capture him with much less bloodshed than anyone else.

And of course they need Danny to come along. He’s their guide through this strange dimension. He knows the rules, some of the layout, and has allies. Well, a couple allies, mostly enemies. But hey! At least the enemies are familiar and can be dealt with quickly - maybe even helpful by ratting out where they saw the Old Angry Sick Human go for the price of a fight with Danny!

Maybe halfway through fighting Skulker, Danny makes a comment about how he’s hunting someone right now, and Skulker gets competitive and starts hunting Ra’s for them too!

Or for short:

DP X DC PROMPT #7:

————————————

Danny visits metropolis and people are deadset on believing that Danny is either Clark’s little brother or his nephew from Illinois… despite that Clark can literally not be related to him. Not that the people at the Daily Planet know that, but even the ones who do know are giving him a hard time.

“I’m adopted Jimmy!” Clark threw his hands in the air in frustration. “You are very aware of that.”

“But he looks just like you Clark, you even talk the same!” Jimmy peaked around the corner, catching a glimpse of Danny talking to Lois in the employees lounge.

“He has a upper midwestern accent. I’m from Kansas, Jim. Not all midwesterners know each other!”

“So?”

“Jimmy. You know damn well why we can not be related.” Clark subtly gestured to his cheap “I believe in aliens” mug. Jimmy was Clark’s best friend and most of the time he really appreciated the kid’s keen eye but Jimmy also seemed to be constantly dead-set on figuring how to give Clark a headache.

“But he looks like a mini you! Have you asked him if he has a spare spaceship lying around anywhere?” Jimmy snarked as he glanced over to Danny and Louis who were finally heading back from their break.

“Jimmy, I will put you on the moon and leave you there.”

At one point a Casper High graduate comes to visit Danny and Lois confirms from them that Danny has had bladder problems since starting highschool that tell him when ghosts are nearby. Wait. Ghosts? Is that what those new villains that were attacking Metropolis were?!

Clark? Well, the office theorizes he has a metagene that tells him where danger or fear is & it’s also linked to his bladder. But that’s also why he knows where to get the best scoops, he knows where all the big stories are.

Lois, of course, knows that Clark Kent is adopted. Wait. Similar metagenes have been shown to be genetic. Are Clark and Danny from the same bio-parents?

________

“Hey, Clark.”

“Yes, Lois?”

“Why can’t I find any traces of your adoption certificate or any orphanage records?”

“My parents found me in a spaceship covered in green goo in the middle of their yearly hike through the Appalachian Mountains.”

“Enough of the jokes, Glasses.”

“Ah, my parents found me left out in the fields on their farm when I was a baby. Why?”

“Don’t worry about it Smallville. Now how do you spell ‘Phantom?’ I can never remember if it’s a “ph” or an ‘f.”

“Lois I have a deadline, turn on your autocorrect.”

“You know why I turned it off, it gets in my way. Besides, I have you, Kansas. So? What is it?

“It’s a ‘ph.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it, Kent.”

“At this rate I edit so much of your work I should be credited in the byline.”

“Oh, fuck off Kent” Lois said without heat behind it.

“Yes Ma’am.” Clark replies automatically.

Carrie peers over from her cubicle across the two, “Cat, they’re squabbling again.”

“Point for Lois?”

“Point for Lois.” Carrie says as Cat uncaps a dry erase marker and puts a tally under ‘Lois’ on a miniature whiteboard that hangs on her cubicle wall.

It has 2 for Kent and 53 for Lois. It’s only Tuesday.

—

Well, that absolutely riveting conversation gave her at least something to work with. They didn’t call her Metropolis’s greatest reporter for nothing! But for now she needs to finish this story on the new hero that’s been periodically showing in Metropolis and brought his own colorful cast of villains to the city with him.

*sounds of crashing wood*

Ah, Clark must’ve broken his desk again. What a cultz.

____________

@gothfoxx makes a great addition here

Jimmy would be the one who points it out. Well, Lois starts it. She’s trying to shake trees by making comparisons to see what info will fall out. The info she gets is (once again) misinterpreted.

AKA "Red Robin jokingly says I'll protect you to a civilian Danny Fenton, unaware this is a ghost proposal. Danny, also unaware this is a ghost proposal, accidentally accepts. So, uh... cue the awkward honeymoon phase?" Dead Tired DPxDC prompt idea!

Or: Tim Drake is a simp with a helping of gratuitously hot Danny Fenton

Red Robin is a disaster bisexual on a good day and a desperate simp every other day, or that's what Jason tells him. But seeing Daniel Fenton - Gotham-U aerospace genius and terrifyingly hot kinda-sorta-crush - about to get mugged feels like a good opportunity for Tim to show he's above all that. He's a hardened, experienced vigilante. He can do this.

Except Danny throws a punch hard enough to drop one of the muggers like a bag of bricks. His blue eyes almost glow in the dark, expression curling into something snarky and surprisingly self-confident. (Tim absolutely does not find that attractive, no. He's a professional.) Red Robin drops down into the alley with familiar ease, bo staff already swinging on the second thug. Danny's on the third one like an animal, slamming the poor guy into the wall so hard his head ricochets off the wall and he slumps in Danny's hold.

He's only wearing fitted white tee and jeans, the same outfit he was earlier on campus, so Tim can see the way his biceps flex and his pecs strain the chest of his tee when his shoulders roll back.

"Wow," Danny drawls. His midwestern accent should sound tacky, but Tim feels a flush burn his pale skin. Thank god for masks. "I was almost a goner there. Thanks for the save, Red."

Tim thinks very, very hard so he doesn't stutter. He's sarcastic and quick-witted, the smartest detective since Batman. He can flirt. (And maybe he's using his Red Robin mask for confidence, but who cares? The amount of times he's gotten tongue tied when trying to ask Danny out, despite sharing four gen ed classes with him, makes him want to claw his eyes out in embarrassment. Tim needs this win.)

"Seems more like an assist than a save. But I can be your knight in shining armor any day." Oh, god. That was the worst pick up line. Tim wishes one of the thugs would suddenly wake up and fight back just so he could get distracted from his utter failure of attempted flirting. Just as Tim's about to backtrack, apologize and say he's just joking, Danny laughs. A giddy, I-can't-believe-I'm-talking-to-you laugh that Tim's personally familiar with. He's suddenly dumbstruck by the idea that Danny might want to flirt with him back.

"Yeah? You'll be my knight?" Danny smiles earnestly, the usual nonchalant bad boy expression softening into something awkwardly endearing.

"Yeah," Tim agrees breathlessly. Jokingly, he adds, "I'll protect you."

As if Danny needs it. Clearly, he's more than able to protect himself, considering how easily he cleared two absurdly jacked muggers. He also has the intelligence of a potentially terrifying Rogue. And he's hot with his tight t-shirts and piercings and perfectly messy hair. And he's funny, matches Tim's sarcasm with his own snark, unashamed of the things he cares about with a passion. Anyways.

"I'll walk you home?" Tim means to sound confident and assured, like how he normally is as Red Robin, but it comes out almost bashful. And he is bashful... bashing his damn head against a wall. Ugh. Get it together, man! Danny laughs again and it's like the stars twinkling or something. It's beautiful. He wants to hear it all the time.

"Yeah. That's-uh, I'd like that." His crush smiles, a flush starting to dust over his ears and cheeks, and Tim turns to tie up the muggers so Danny can't see the goofy smile that takes over his face.

(The next morning, after taking Danny home, Tim Drake wakes up to a tattoo on his left hand. Specifically his wedding finger. The tattooed band is somehow glowing green with incomprehensible runes encircling his finger just beneath the knuckle. What. The. Fuck.)

Yes, he was postponing his crisis about whatever just happened until he could go see Clockwork and demand answers, what of it?

Except... When he went to school, he saw Tim- a guy he shared a few gen-ed classes with and he would hesitate to call a friend but damn was he hot- with a band-aid on his wedding finger on his left hand, and the tattoo-ring (more tattoo than ring, the opposite of his) glowed through the band-aid, pulsing slowly in time with Danny's heart.

Fuck.

Tim is Red Robin?

How hadn't he seen this before? In hindsight, it was so obvious, especially with his experience in the teenage vigilante field, but Tim was doing better at hiding it than he had.

Same dark eyebags that looked more like tattoos than biological function, though.

Fuck... He had to talk to Tim about it, didn't he. Well... He didn't have any answers... He could postpone it until he got some answers.

What day of the week..? Thursday? Just avoid Tim the rest of the day and the next one, too, travel to the Ghost Zone over the weekend and get some answers, and then... What? Pull him aside and ask to talk after classes on Monday?

They had another shared class later that day and Danny was so caught up in his thoughts he crashed right into him walking through the door. Both men jolted in surprise, Danny reached out to steady Tim but - displaying a complete lack of Red Robin’s usual fluid grace - his legs buckled, and Danny somehow ended up holding Tim in a manner that looked like he dipped him at the end of a dance.

He closes Wikipedia.

Jason being a revenant means these tactics will still work on him.

What if one day a Rogue blows up a building (sadly common in Gotham) but Jason gets hit by debris - the shockwave knocks him over and the bricks and mortar that flew through the air land on his legs. It’s nowhere near enough weight to cause his siblings problems (they all jump right back up and brush off the dust and rocks and race off to help and fight) but he can’t move. It’s just a couple bricks, probably 5-8 pounds worth. He regularly lifts 40 times that weight but suddenly he can’t even wiggle his legs to make gravity roll the bricks off him. He’s paralyzed.

Jason has to call for help which he loathes, and when Nightwing or Spoiler race over they think he’s got spinal damage because he can’t move his legs and he hates the anguish and pity on their face even more. Nearly bites their head off screaming that they just need to move the bricks and when they do he jumps up and rushes off to punch the villain to funnel the aggression in a healthy-ish direction. (It’s not healthy. His family need to pull him away to prevent a murder fueled by dread. And then he avoids them for a month because he doesn’t want to face what happened.)

Jason wouldn't be too worried about being captured, at first, he's got a comm, and every Robin is as good as an escape artist. But he freaks out when he sees the coffin. It's good, solid wood, only the best for him, the villain mocks. He struggles the whole time the goons manhandle him into it, until they lay the stones on his limbs, and it's like he paralyzed.

Honestly, the villain was just doing, like, a dramatic bit. Imagine their glee when it actually works.

The others are clamoring over the comms, asking what's going on, where he is, but Red Hood suddenly falls silent. His communicator is still functional, but nothing they say can get him to respond.

cue Batfam shenanigans of everyone trying to keep identities a secret

Danny pulls out a piece of bread and slathers butter on it. He jumps on the counter and folds the bread in half and shoves it in his mouth. 

Jazz stares down at the packet in her hands, face almost unreadable. “Huh.” She says. 

The envelope on the table reads Ancestry.com. 

-

Maddie doesn't notice a thing, doesn't see the looks on her kids' faces. "Sure thing, dear, what is...?" she starts to ask, then trails off as she scans the page. She frowns.

The tension that had been sitting in Danny's stomach like a lead weight finally snaps. He stands, his chair screeching behind him, and says, "Mom, Dad-" not even knowing what he means to say, just knowing he needs to stop this, now.

Jack interrupts him. "That can't be right, can it Mads?" he asks, a strange solemness to his tone, his eyebrows drawn together.

Danny has a sudden, desperate, selfish wish that they weren't doing this in front of him. He doesn't want to see his family get torn apart, doesn't want his own existence to be the thing that ruins them. He's feared for that eventually ever since the day he walked into the ghost portal, but he never thought it would happen like this.

Maddie puts a hand up to her mouth. "No, it couldn't be," she mutters against her fingers.

"Danno was born in February," Jack points out, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Right," Maddie agrees. "So-" suddenly, her eyes spark in recognition. Danny's breath catches to see it. "Oh my goodness, Jack, Brucie!"

Danny's gaze snaps to his father, who... brightens? "Brucie!" he says jovially. "That'd explain it!"

Alfred was surprised by Master Bruce’s choice in partners. Partners who apparently had a child and had recently discovered that their son was not Mr. Fenton’s biological child.

At least the Fenton’s had the decency to inform Master Bruce once they discovered the … mix up, unlike Miss Al Ghul, whom just showed up at his doorstep with a ten year old.

Master Bruce had such… eclectic choices in romantic parents. At least the Fenton’s weren’t villains or heroes, though they definitely were some flavor of mad scientist.

But who was he to judge. His own paramours were not people one could call … conventional.

Master Bruce must have inherited that trait from himself.

Nevertheless, Alfred now had a new mission to focus on.

The screech of the batmobile can be heard.

"Bruce, we need to talk, young sirs and young ladies, please, leave us, post haste, take a pastry with you" Alfred speaks before anyone can get a word in.

All of Bruce's brood, take their preferred pastry, and leave Bruce in the thick of it.

"Alfred, what is it, it sounds serious" Bruce asked taking his cowl off.

"Remember Madeline and Jackson Fenton's,"

"Well, uh, I do"

"Their son Daniel Fenton, who has a birthday in February has no relation to Jack Fenton"

Bruce squints his eyes in deep thought, "ok and you bring this up why?"

Alfred, looking disappointed, world's greatest detective, his ass "9 months before, you and the couple, were in a intimate relationship no"

Bruce, gears turning, but he doesn't want them to turn "I have another kid, Alfred, request them to come visit please"

Alfred sighing "already on it master Bruce, should I tell Madeline and Jackson your room is open, or no"

Bruce walks away.

Alfred "duly noted sir, they will be here with young master Daniel, and young lady Jasmine in a week from now"

Bruce sighs "you already made plans, thanks Alfred"

---

The ghosts of Martha and Thomas, who are watching over their third.

"we have another grandson and granddaughter. Yay"

"but did it have to be with the ghost hunters, they nearly caught you in that box, I just barely got you out of it"

"who knows, maybe they don't hunt ghosts anymore"

Danny hadn’t even gone to school that next Thursday morning, too lost in reeling thoughts to care about taking the day off - Jazz had called him out sick for the next two days, and she’d sounded shaken enough as well that the school office worker hadn’t questioned it.

Neither of the siblings had spoken much since the big reveal, both trying to wrap their heads around everything their parents kept excitedly gabbing about as they tossed photo albums, travel toiletries, and ghost weapons into a suitcase. But they sat close in the back seat of the GAV, supporting each other emotionally as well as physically through Jack’s merging and screeching curves.

Danny had at least texted Sam and Tucker Thursday morning to let them know he wouldn’t be in classes and was taking off to Gotham for a few days. He wasn’t sure how to say “hey turns out my dad isn’t my dad - well he still is but not my bio-dad - guess what it’s Bruce Billionaire Wayne! Haha, whodathunkit? Two himbo fathers for the price of one! Turns out my mom has a type” so instead he just asked his friends to take notes for him and keep their ghost weapons and extra thermos close in case the Box Ghost or Klemper showed up.

They knew to call if something major popped up. Sam told him to take pictures of the cool gargoyles all over the city, and Tucker said if he had time to visit a Wayne Tech store for the newly released memory bank he’d send Danny the money to pick it up for him. Danny responded to both messages with a thumbs up and tried to avoid thinking about the added squirming in his guts at the thought of being related to the guy who owns the company that pays the inventors of those memory banks.

On paper the drive between Amity Park and Gotham was about 11 hours, but Jack’s driving shortened that to 8 1/2 even with a couple bathroom stops and fast food drive-throughs.

The closer they got to Gotham the more Danny felt like puking those chicken nuggets back up. He must have made some kind of noise when he saw the “Welcome to Gotham” road sign lit by the setting sun behind them because Jazz reached over and held his hand.

“It’s just two days,” she whispered, also looking a bit sick but meeting his eyes intently. “Friday and Saturday here, then we leave early Sunday morning to drive home. Just two days. This doesn’t change anything between us, Little Brother.”

“Of course not,” he responded immediately, then gave a weak grin. “It’s not like I could donate you a kidney since my accident anyway. And a DNA change didn’t stop me before so why let it now, yeah?”

“That’s the spirit.”

They both snorted at the unintended pun, and entered Gotham laughing.

Pulling up to Wayne Manor was a shock even though they knew a little of what to expect. What they didn’t expect was Bruce Wayne himself walking out the front door to greet them, and Jack launching himself out the abruptly parked GAV with a shout of “BRUCIE!!” to literally scoop the man up into his arms and plant a kiss right on the billionaire’s mouth.

Maddie laughed and jumped down from her seat to walk over, “Let him down, honey, so I can say hi too!”

Bruce was smiling widely as his feet touched back on ground and he leaned down to give Maddie a peck on the lips, holding her hand as he kept the other hand on Jack’s chest. Jack in turn had a hand on each of their hips as they stood in a tight circle.

Danny just stared. The whole scene looked… so normal? Sweetly domestic?

His parents had packed up the hazmat suits in their luggage and worn what they call their “on-the-town clothes.” Not date-night clothes, but nice outfits. He honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to them during the morning pack-up and long drive, but seeing them greet their old flame in real people clothes, acting like humans with a past instead of scientists with a lab in the basement… Danny felt like he was in a different universe. He knew logically that they had lives before him and Jazz were born but it really struck him in that moment.

“What?” Parker looked back over her shoulder at the man currently adorned with three blondes, five brunettes, and a redhead. “Why?”

“Something’s not right,” Eliot said, which wasn’t an explanation at all.

“Think you can maybe give us a little more to go on than that?” Nate asked, the kind of sardonic authority that was easy to pull off when he wasn’t even in the building.

“No,” Eliot snapped. “I don’t know what the hell it is, I just know it’s bad news.” MI6 in the way he held his champagne and CIA in the way he stood and a soldier in his shoulders and Interpol in the way he looked around the room – no, CIA again – no, FBI – League of Assassins? Obviously not that, couldn’t have been that, so what exactly was it that had him wanting to grab Parker and get the hell out? If he could get closer he might be able to tell, the mezzanine might as well have been a different building entirely for all the good it did him. All forest, no trees.

“Not distinctive enough?” Hardison asked, but it wasn’t a real question.

“Too distinctive,” Eliot answered, even though he knew Hardison didn’t actually care. “I’ve just never seen it before.”

“If you’ll pardon the intrusion, sir,” said a voice not in Eliot’s ear, and he did not make it obvious how he stiffened at the address. Eliot turned, let harmless confusion and interest soften his face.

The butler, the one he’d seen before. Pennyworth. That familiar combination of MI6 and Interpol, muddied with domestic service but present all the same.

“May I have your name?” the butler asked, his hair was white but his eyes were sharp.

“Isaac Easton,” Eliot lied automatically. “Is something wrong?”

Mr. Pennyworth exuded serene amusement. “So sorry,” he said, “but I’m afraid you’re not Mr. Easton.”

“Don’t try to deny it,” Sophie said in Eliot’s ear before he could respond. “He couldn’t make it so he told you to come.”

“You caught me,” Eliot said, sheepish. “Turned out he had some kind of a family thing, said I could use his invite. Didn’t think anyone’d notice if I used his name. He’ll be flattered you remember him.”

It was unclear if Pennyworth bought this story, as placid as before. “I don’t, actually,” he said. “But I’ve always made it a point to examine the guest lists personally. If there were meant to be a former green beret in attendance, I would know about it.”

Eliot was, for the most fleeting of moments, stunned.

The butler smiled. It was not kind. “The way you watch the crowd,” he explained. “It’s very distinctive.”

Eliot froze. He frowned. His brow furrowed.

which is to say. leverage crew are unknowingly speedrunning this guy’s demise. bruce was already handling it, he’s just content to play a longer game cuz taking down evil rich guys who do run-of-the-mill rich people crimes and not, y'know, increasingly elaborate supervillain crimes often involving fun new dangerous chemicals and explosives is the batman equivalent of a hobby. he combs thru the banking records of gotham’s elite to relax

and. because in both the leverage crew and the batfam’s experience people who have a very particular skillset and are lying about it do not mean well, they spend the whole gala convinced the other group are Villains.

so the longer the job takes the more nate suggests maybe they just bail, guys, they can find another angle that doesn’t need those files, they have definitely stumbled into something bigger here and he has no idea who bruce wayne actually is but he does not want to piss him off, while parker and eliot stubbornly refuse to leave because, no, they are figuring out what the fuck wayne’s deal is. hardison is having too much fun talking to tim to take a side. sophie can’t decide if the inevitability of someone being stabbed is worth finding out why dick grayson is subtly grilling her about a few very specific pieces of artwork and their exact locations

(for the record dick is mostly trying to figure out if she knows selina) (he is asking the wrong person) (parker hasn’t ever talked to her but they’ve crossed paths) (only so many buildings containing incredibly expensive things in the world. yknow how it is)

and the more of the evening that passes the more bruce starts to develop a twitch, because these people are here for A Reason but no one can find anything on them, they’re not trying to get in the kitchens, they’re not armed, he sent tim off to hack into their comms two hours ago and he still hasn’t come back, dick is convinced the older woman is a prolific griffer but bruce is reasonably sure she’s related to him somehow, what are they trying to do why are they here bruce’s head hurts

eventually, eliot hits his subterfuge limit and just starts for the office, and bruce follows him, and they get in the aforementioned brawl in a relatively out-the-way hallway that slowly attracts parker, sophie, nate, and dick, and as that is playing out hardison finally says something he thinks isn’t incriminating but makes tim go “ohhh you’re after the medical fraud guy. shit, why didn’t you just say so? i’ll send you the files now”

meaning hardison finally gives his full attention back to the main comms channel and says “uh, nate? it’s cool, i sorted it, you can bounce”, only for nate to reply “eliot has bruce wayne in a chokehold” and then, as hardison splutters, “no, wait, bruce wayne has eliot pinned– no, eliot has– no, i think– wait, maybe–”

“you, uh. you can break it up” hardison says, desperately trying to find a security camera with a good angle, and tim pipes up “hey, can we set up your guy and bruce on some playdates?” as nate, caught between bemusement and concern, says “i think? this is fun for them?”

I’d like to add a scene idea for when Bruce and Parker meet.

Your feelings are this beautiful garden of flora inside of your chest. When you express how you feel honestly, you allow for it to grow freely. But when you hide how you feel out of fear of rejection, and try to make it smaller and smaller, the flowers become cramped inside of you, until you choke on your own feelings. Every flower you cough up is something you’ve felt, but refused to say.

The whole “dying” thing is intended to be more symbolic especially. You’re killing off bits and pieces of yourself and how you feel, because you’re afraid to express yourself.

It’s not really supposed to be, “The one I love doesn’t love me back, and I’m dying from it.” Rather, it’s more along the lines of, “Repressing your emotions is bad for you, and it’s better and healthier to express them freely, even when it’s scary.”

Which is to say that, one, the cure for the disease should be telling the person that you are in love with how you feel. How the other person feels about the person afflicted should have nothing to do with it, as the trope is meant to be about feeling your emotions unapologetically.

And that, two, it’s not an inherently romantic trope. Obviously, it has romantic applications, but it can be written for any situation where a character is hiding how they truly feel. This can include a refusal to address a specific trauma, a desire to indulge in something that they’re ashamed of, and even really practical things, like wanting to ask one’s boss for a higher position.

Although (as an aromantic person myself) I don’t agree with this conclusion about the trope, this application would also avoid people calling it arophobic. When the thing killing the character is a refusal to be honest with themselves, rather than an unrequited love, it’s on nobody’s hands but their own to save their life.

Danny Phantom - Danny won’t tell his parents he’s half ghost. Undergrowth cursed him with hanahaki and coughing up flowers is getting harder to hide than the ghost powers.

DC/Justice League - the entirety of the Gotham vigilante crew start coughing up flowers and none of the other heroes know why and are very concerned. The Bats just went through a major Arkham breakout with all hands on deck hunting down Rogues and short-term patients alike, trying to keep civilians safe from multiple madmen with chemical weapons while also herding the escaped group therapy session of suicidal 20-25 year olds away from the bridges. Basically a very traumatic week that none of them will talk about.

BBC Merlin - Merlin has hanahaki because he refuses to tell Arthur he’s a sorcerer. Yes they’ve been fuck buddies for years, that’s just a background fact unimportant here.

This “race” is a real thing in comics and Barry goes easy on Superman

How often does these two racing come up? More than you’d think

In the early races they would tie. DC liked to tease it out. Who’s the fastest? Who know, after all you can’t say one is faster if they tie…

Then they casually drop the bomb that Barry has been holding back for years every time they raced. The race was a publicity thing, he was having fun and putting on a show, meanwhile Clark was actually going as fast as he could

All of this is adorable. Danny doesn’t get to go this fast most of the time because he’s protecting people or fighting ghosts and while he can use his speed it’s for a purpose not just for the thrill of speed.

Back to the dog running next to a car analogy - Danny is like a sheepdog. He’s got the speed and agility but it’s focused on herding. Making his target move in particular ways to avoid damaging infrastructure or herding crowds of people away from harm.

But when you get to see a sheepdog just sprint in a straight line?! It feels like watching a jet scream past you at an air show. Sleek and perfectly attuned to its job.

He'd been talking with Ma, remembering Pa, and had mentioned that he hadn't seen his Cousin, Danny, in awhile.

His Ma told him that she had no way to contact Danny, because Danny was just Some Guy that showed up to lay in the snow on their field at random intervals, and he looked enough like Clark that they could get away with saying he was a cousin.

Apparently, he'd been harmless enough, and when Pa had pointed a shotgun at him for trespassing, the only thing he'd done was say "fair" and still refuse to move. Pa had done some interrogating, while Ma had kept a six year old Clark distracted, and found the long and short of it; the boy was an ice meta, and he'd overheated, so he was cooling down in the snow on the field before leaving again.

Pa had told Ma, while Clark was still distracted, and she'd ordered him to go out there and give the boy the last tub of ice cream they had.

After that, the boy, Danny, had sporadically returned every winter, stayed for a few days, helped around the farm, babysat Clark, and then disappeared.

When Clark had left for Metropolis, Danny had only come by one or two more times, then the visits stopped.

Danny hadn't even come back after Pa died.

Ma had assumed that the worst had happened, but since she only knew Danny's first name and that he was an ice meta, had no way of finding him. She hadn't said anything because she hadn't wanted to add to Clark's stress.

She would love to own a cat or two, but her dad is so allergic she wouldn’t ever be able to have him visit and would need to keep a change of clothes without dander in her car to change into before going over to his house. Cats are her favorite and it makes her sad she can’t have any. She’ll stop to pet strays anytime they let her, but also keeps a lint roller in her car to get rid of the worst of it and then immediately throws those clothes in the wash when she gets home.

Joy considered keeping a bearded dragon when her coworker was moving states and couldn’t take it with him, but after studying tank/environment maintenance and dietary needs she decided it was too much work on top of nursing hours. She likes lizards, thinks they’re cute. Especially blue bellies when they do their little pushups.

Small dogs are okay if they’re polite and not yappy but she’s not a fan of big dogs. The only exception is her uncle’s dog that she watched grow from an eight week old puppy - a half german shepherd half bull mastiff named Bodhi that has never barked, only makes a quiet boof noise when she hears a stranger come up the driveway, and doesn’t jump on people when excited. Bodhi is a very well trained gentle giant who enjoys sleeping in tall grass and puts up with Joy’s baby cousins crawling all over her. Joy has decided this is the perfect example of a big dog and all others are found lacking in comparison.