Damian Wayne & Daniel Fenton Twin AU Blog based on my own fic(s)
Personals, can like my hc's, drabbles & photo edits but PLEASE do not RB them unless they are tagged as okay to RB, also pls don't like or RB my opens. I am begging on my hands & knees. PLEASE
Main Fic Series: Reuniting and Redemption
Secondary Fic: Hauntless King
Damian Wayne was born as Damian Al Ghul to Talia Al Ghul soon after his twin brother Aidan, however well Aidan's entrance into the world was silent his was not. The baby screamed himself to exhaustion and even then let out small whines as he slept until his brother was by his side after being put into the Lazarus water that Ra's Al Ghul treasured. Well he was born the son of The Bat and the Heir of the demon, Aidan being the Son of the Bat and the plan to be putting him into a position to succeed their father in his role? It was Aidan who would later go on to have a place among the power of the pits, well Damian was happy to succeed their father in his mission and one day carry on the mantle of The Bat.
Random PSA's
Multiblog Carrd
In this house we ignore the weird incubator shit.
I don't autoship with new RP partners.
I’m 1000% willing to RP twin AU things with other Danny’s and Damian’s we just gotta talk about what in my info would and wouldn’t work for you.
Mun also found at @kaylathebitch32
Mobile Muse Info:
Danny
Damian
Verses
Opens
Memes
Sideblogs:
@dpmultibitches -Danny Phantom Multi
@ancientghosts -Danny Phantom/DC Multi for the ancients who sealed Pariah Dark. Each one is tied to an Endless.
@batfambitches -Batfam specific Multi
@dcmultibitches -general DC multi
@landofgodsxmonsters -Percy Jackson/ Greek Myth Multi
@hodgepodgebitches -Multi with an assortment of muses. Some fandoms include The Sandman, LOTR, Avatar (blue people), Disney's Decendants, Supernatural, ect.
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Danny is in fact a lot smarter than he lets on, and a lot more capable than the people around him assume. Since being taken in by the Fenton's he's kind of underplayed everything he could do, as well as tried to seem as unopposing and an athletic is possible to avoid the risk of drawing his grandfather's attention. Over the years that downplaying just kind of became part of who he was, and even though he could get A's and he could hold his own more cleanly in a fight? Switching on that competence is something that he has to consciously do, mostly because acting the way he did allowed his ADHD brain to experience executive dysfunction which he was never able to allow himself when living within the league.
GUYS tomorrow is the day Damian lies and tells the Bats is his birthday and Saturday is Danny and Damian's actual birthday. If anyone wants bday things with them lmk.
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I left what was going on when she came to camp pretty vague so that I can write her either during the war or in the Next Generation depending on plot
Opal is a 16 year old daughter of Iris and a mortal parent who made a name for themselves as a famous artist. Their work was known for landscapes and cityscapes that seemed almost too vivid to be real, full of strange little details most people assumed were stylistic choices. In truth, they could see through the Mist, and what they painted was the world as it actually existed to them - nymphs half-hidden in trees, monsters lurking within crowded streets, old magic clinging to bridges, rooftops, and abandoned places. It was through that ability to see the hidden world so clearly, and the beauty they found in it, that Iris first took notice of them.
Opal grew up surrounded by paint, sketchbooks, and rooms always lit by windows large enough to flood everything with color. Her childhood was split between ordinary mortal life and the quiet, strange reality of having a parent who never really understood the world the same way other people did. That made her own strangeness easier for them to accept than it might have been otherwise, because Opal was born with wings.
Large feathered wings that could fold tightly against her back, close enough to be hidden beneath loose tops and hoodies when she needs them to be - though at Camp Half-Blood she usually keeps them looser because she doesn’t have to hide them all the time. When tucked in, they sit against her back neatly enough that the mist lets them be hidden easily enough, but when spread out they are impossible to ignore and most assume they are fake and part of some elaborate costume her parent has helped her make. The feathers are soft white at rest but in the right light they shimmer with faint rainbow color, as if sunlight has gotten caught inside them. Her mortal parent named her, and her wings are where her name came from.
Her build that makes her loom younger than she is; small, quick, and restless, with the sort of energy that contributed to both her parents nickname for her – hummingbird. Her hair is usually messy, her clothes practical, and she almost always had bits of paint on her cloths either fresh or stained in. She does not try very hard to look intimidating, and that’s probably for the best, because she is not intimidating. She is bright in a way that is hard to miss, even when she is trying to stay quiet.
Personality-wise, Opal is curious, observant, and more than willing to ask questions. She gets distracted easily, and tends to say exactly what she is thinking without always thinking it through first. She is affectionate in an awkward, half-embarrassed way, and she gets attached to people easily. She is also far more perceptive than she gives herself credit for, especially when it comes to noticing the little changes in people’s expressions that tell her something is wrong before they say it out loud. Her kindness is instinctive rather than polished, and while she can be stubborn when she feels like she is being ignored? She’s not the type to pick fights for no reason.
As a daughter of Iris, Opal’s powers are light and color based. Her main ability is a limited power to temporarily change the color of things. She can shift the color of small objects, clothing, marks, surfaces, and other visible details for a short time, but she cannot make anything permanently different, and she can’t use it to do anything major. Most of the time her power is useful for little things - hiding a stain, making something stand out, changing the color of a ribbon or piece of fabric, changing the color of haur or eyes for a short while.
Because she was born with her wings rather than growing into them as a power, Opal was able to live at home with her mortal parent for years before Camp Half-Blood became necessary. Her divine scent didn’t really become a problem until her color-manipulation abilities started manifesting around age nine or ten, which was when monsters started noticing her more. That allowed her a childhood that was strange, but still mostly normal - one filled with paint-stained hands, unfinished sketches, and the awareness that she was different and peoples minds couldn’t and wouldn’t allow them to understand that.
When she first came to camp Opal stayed for a year, and after that she became a Summer camper who occasionally showed up during extended school holidays as well.
He sees her! She can't help the elation, her form flickering to shadow for just a moment before centering herself once more.
"I didn't mean to startle you, dear Robin." Desperately trying to hold onto one voice but so many fall from black lips as she speaks.
Male, female, young, old, bright and melodic, jaded and bitter, gravelly from cigarette use, the curt crisp vowels of the upper class and the wider drawl of the poorest districts. All layered over each other despite her best efforts. She doesn't exactly get to speak out loud as often as she would like.
"Honestly, I wasn't sure you would see me at all. It's a pleasure to finally greet one of my protectors. I've always wanted to thank one of you personally."
She drifts a touch closer to him, the air around her cooling, grass bending and even wilting under her as wisps of shadow drift from her outline and from the chains themselves. The knife doesn't frighten her; Damian cannot kill that which has never truly been alive in the first place. No. He is simply ensuring the safey of his family and ancestors. She won't begrudge him that.
Damian stiffened at her voice, it wasn't familiar but it felt familiar - and that just put him even more on edge. When she moved farther out of the shadows he he took half a step back with one foot, angling his knife towards her even as he tightened his grip on it, because she also felt familiar. He didn't know who, or what, she was but he felt like he knew her.
Ever since his birthday, his actual birthday not the day he allowed his family to celebrate, he'd felt this strange sensation. Not anything bad, just like there was more in the shadows. Things he could always see out of the corner of his eyes but was never there when he looked. It'd been growing but he'd been trying not to think too much about it, he'd been considering contacting Zatana or Raven though if he was honest with himself.
“Who are you.” He repeated, tone hard even as he resisted the urge to relax in her presence. She felt safe, and he did not trust that.
She's so excited; she hasn't spoken for so long, she's out of practice with all of this. When was the last time she held a verbal conversation with... anyone? There was that gentleman who spoke to city spirits and didn't flinch away from her true form but he hasn't visited in a while. Before that? ...she can hardly remember. It's so hard to hold onto what she wants to project when all she wants to do is embrace Her Boy. This boy born outside of her boarders and carrying the name of one of her founding families yet had settled into new life and even fully into his skin at last. She wants to show all of herself, all of the city he has now called home.
That would frighten him.
Her true form has frightened several. Her Knight's magic-leaning friends have caught glimpses of her before and they're wary of her.
"You know me." She says, soft and fond, a whisper on the breeze. "You protect me every night. You were pulled from the place of your birth and thrown into a culture so unlike your own, you were so small when you first arrived within my boarders." That gentle breeze that disguised her touch shifted from his hair to cupping his chin. "You've grown into your wings and it's been beautiful to witness."
She remembers the anger he arrived with, how it masked the fear and confusion. His squabbles with her clever bird. He's grown so much in the time he's been here, learned so many things and she can't help but press a gentle kiss to his forehead.
Damian froze when she touched him. Not in fear, his body had already decided she was not a threat in the way most things were. In something worse in his eyes, recognition without understanding. The kind that crawled along his spine and settled in his gut, the same way the Manor sometimes did at night, or the city streets when he sat and absorbed the sounds on a quiet night.
His grip on the knife tightened reflexively, though he did not strike. He did not pull away either, jaw set as he forced himself to breathe through the sudden spike of sensation. Cold, not unpleasant. Comforting almost.
“…Do not touch me,” he said, voice clipped, controlled. Not shouted, a boundary. No matter the strange feeling of you can trust her he had? He did not know who this really was, she said she was Gotham but what did that mean?
The fact that her words pressed so close to things she should not have known only made him more wary. The anger he’d arrived with, the fear and grief he’d buried behind it. The way Gotham had felt hostile and alien and slowly began to feel like something that watched him back, like a place that saw him - that knew him.
That unsettled him more than her appearance ever could. “You speak as if you’ve been observing me,” he continued, blade lowering a fraction though it remained ready. “You say you are Gotham.” A pause, short and measured as his gaze flickered to the grave stone he had been kneeling at before shifting back to her. “..and if you are Gotham? Explain why I can see you now.”
The touch immediately withdraws. The rejection stings a little, her Bats and Birds are her favourites even if she's not supposed to have favourites. They certainly aren't the first favourites either. The city is old, there have been generations of people going about their lives and trying to survive and a few trying to make a difference for both good and bad. Despite having experienced it time and again, it always stings a little. Even if people don't know they're rejecting her.
But she listens anyway.
Robin... Damian... is a child. Gotham has long since learned to listen to children, that they are just as capable of making choices as any adult.
His question is an excellent one and one she doesn't have an answer for.
"I don't know." She answered honestly.
Even as she leaned back against a neighboring headstone, no weight to really make it move, the grubby skirt of her dress moved with her, billowing around her a little. Gloved hands settled in her lap; a flash of upper class etiquette despite the echoes of the poorer district in the many voices she speaks in.
"There's a lot about myself I don't know. A city is always changing and I wasn't always a city. This was a tiny fishing port settlement some centuries ago then it became a trading post and then a town and now it's a bustling city. But if there's one thing I do know, it's the people who call me home." Moonlight eyes are now fixed on her littlest bird. "I know what drives some to crime and others to change, I know when a runaway child is fleeing danger or simply playing. And I always know when my protectors are out and trying to make things better. I knew when Bruce left and then returned and began his endless work. I watched how he grew a family and how him and then each of you in turn settled into exactly who you wanted and needed to be."
Another shift, one 'leg' crossing over the other and for just a fleeting moment, she forgot herself. The faded but beautiful jewelry shifting into large heavy chains around her wrists and neck and then in the blink of an eye, they were jewelry again.
"I watch you and your family because I'm grateful that you're all trying to make things better and I don't want to lose any of you ever again. But I don't know why you can see me whne you couldn't before. I can hide myself and do so out of habit but that's all I'm aware of. I... hesitate to call myself a ghost or a spirit as I have never really been alive and therefore have never died."
Damian almost felt bad at the clipped tone he had used, the way the touch pulled back immediatly a clear sign that she didnt mean harm. If he had to compare it to anything, it had felt similar to the way the older ladies at galas would touch his chin and tell him how handsome and well manored he was. It was something he typically took pride in, taunting Jason and occasionally Dick with the compliment.
That didn't change the fact that it felt strange though, because this wasn't a gala. This was the manor grounds, this was the empty grave he had made for his brother without telling the others.
The honesty though did more to gain his trust than the odd sense of familiarity, and he relaxed just slightly when she folded her hands and seemed to accept that he didn't want to be touched. He took note of her appearance, not missing the moment that her jewelry flickered into chains and back. When she was done he was silent for a moment before speaking again.
"Spirit isn't always connected to things that were alive, the idea of the spirit of a place is prevalent across cultures. The Greeks and Romans are the most well known examples of that, but places like Egypt and Mesopotamia have records of the phenomenon as well." World religions arent really so much something he's interested in as something that he has studied to be able to read people better.
The point he was making with the statement was that he believed her, even if it did sound strange. That didn't explain why he could see her now though, why he felt like there was more lurking in his peripheral since his birthday. "..How long have you been watching my family?" From the sounds of it? At least since his father was a child, perhaps longer. Who knew how long a city spirit could live.
In DP the link to The Infinite Realms seems to be centered around earth, and given the way that I tie it into DC via The Endless by making it where Time and Night originated from and it basically being the Greco-Roman idea of Khaos I think that fits. The Infinite realms has a strong connection to Earth because The Endless favor it so strongly.
I need more "High King of the Infinite Realms" BS with the Observants trying to push Danny to do more royal BS. I'm talking stuff like
Ambassadorial visits with "leaders" in the hero world as well as with just world leaders in general. (He can behave himself and knows how bc of his childhood, question is will he?)
Throwing balls to introduce himself to the leaders of the death realms that exist within the Infinite Realms.
Hold some kind of court for the beings in the Infinite Realm to complain to him
"You have to get married so you can have an heir one day, we don't know if your going to stop aging or die and keep or lose your powers we need to be ready for whatever" "I'm literally 16"
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Haven't done this in awhile so here's a list of people that all of you should follow and interact with in no particular order, even if I haven't interacted with a lot of them in awhile. They are still great and it's just because of my fluctuating muse and and how busy I've been the last year with going back to school
I need more "High King of the Infinite Realms" BS with the Observants trying to push Danny to do more royal BS. I'm talking stuff like
Ambassadorial visits with "leaders" in the hero world as well as with just world leaders in general. (He can behave himself and knows how bc of his childhood, question is will he?)
Throwing balls to introduce himself to the leaders of the death realms that exist within the Infinite Realms.
Hold some kind of court for the beings in the Infinite Realm to complain to him
"You have to get married so you can have an heir one day, we don't know if your going to stop aging or die and keep or lose your powers we need to be ready for whatever" "I'm literally 16"
Haven't done this in awhile so here's a list of people that all of you should follow and interact with in no particular order, even if I haven't interacted with a lot of them in awhile. They are still great and it's just because of my fluctuating muse and and how busy I've been the last year with going back to school
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“Do not pretend to know why I - ” Damian took a deep break in through his nose and out through his mouth as he forced himself to calm down, it wasn't as if they knew why he hated celebrating on his actual birthday. “As I said, I will attend any celebration the lot or you want to subject me to. But I will not be doing so next Saturday."
