first time making a master post, sorry if it's shitty
đŹ 19  đ 379  â¤ď¸ 12 ¡ -Bongo sits down beside her, form blurry and hard to focus on- "So, earlier you said you were talking to someone else w
đŹ 0  đ 349  â¤ď¸ 2 ¡ Yeah, I can't remember if he told me his name or not..
@madeofmanyfandoms
Ooc: We'll just continue from here
đŹ 0  đ 1339  â¤ď¸ 5 ¡ -Melody bows low from her seat on the ground, and Bongo follows her example- "It is a great honor to have met you, my la
đŹ 0  đ 1057  â¤ď¸ 3 ¡ ooc: Ah, that makes sense! đ and Anti did indicate he was willing to do whatever Rose needed from him đ
This one is next
đŹ 0  đ 1754  â¤ď¸ 2 ¡ đ˛ đŹęŞęŞŽá, áĽęŞđ˝ đ´đ˝đ˛ęŞśęŞś...
[áđ˛ęŞśá ťęŞŽđłáŚ đ´đ˝đ´đ˝ęŤđ´.]
-Melody smiles at Wilford softly- "But I do understand what you mean. Emotions
If/when we start a new reblog chain I will either edit this post or just link it in a new master post
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In the Danny is Damianâs brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasnât because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.
What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.
Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you donât follow orders. Just like what Raâs said about Danny.
So he didnât tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jasonâs positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.
Whether or not Bruce would do this to Dannyâs memory doesnât matter. Bâs actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.
When Danny eventually pops up and Bruce does his "Why didn't you tell me? You had no right to keep this from me." tangent Damien just looks him in the eyes, "In truth I would have told you but after seeing what you did to the son you had I realised I couldn't do that to my brother's memory."
i respect ppl who think frodo & sam were sucking & fucking constantly when the narrator wasn't looking. but personally i think the furthest they went was an awkward attempt at mutual handjobs one night in mordor which started as sam trying to do something anything that'd make frodo feel good & frodo insisted on doing it for sam too & sam closed his eyes & tried to imagine it was rosie cotton while frodo tried to remember the shire or focus on the texture of sam's rough hand or the unyielding heat in his own grip or think about anything other than the great burning wheel & neither of them succeeded. & frodo never got fully hard & eventually pushed sam's hand away but kept going & sam felt like he had failed & part of him wanted to push frodo's hand away too but instead he came harder than he had ever in his life & they never talked about it again
the reason usa birth rates going down is because we have a whole generation of women whose sexual awakening was Sans undertale and none of the men want to wear jorts and drink ketchup and go Er er er
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In the Danny is Damianâs brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasnât because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.
What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.
Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you donât follow orders. Just like what Raâs said about Danny.
So he didnât tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jasonâs positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.
Whether or not Bruce would do this to Dannyâs memory doesnât matter. Bâs actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.
This!!! Thatâs could be a reason as to why Damian is so continuously antagonistic to Tim! But I have more thoughts now!!!!
ââââ
âTodd how do you not find it distasteful?â
Jason looked up from his book at the kid who hadnât even looked at him since arriving, âwhat do I not find âdistastefulâ?â
âHow this farce of a âfamilyâ treats the memory of the dead? You may have been resurrected, but their disrespect of your past even still is heinous.â
Marking the page and setting the book down on his lap, Jason took a deep breath willing the Lazarus pit to the back of his head. What ever bothered the kid so much to come to him out of anyone in the manor must mean something, âWhat are you on about kid?â
âDrake,â Damian spat like it was nasty on his toung, â spoke of you as if you were some usurper to the greatness of Grayson, that you were a horrible Robin. How Father,â he spoke the title with the same amount of venom, âacted as if you were some delinquent he was forced to leash, who died during an attempt on your life at the hands of your birth mother and a mad man. How they treat you death as temporary it may have been as your fault for being a failure instead ofâŚâ Damian paused.
If Jason didnât know how prideful Damian was how closed off he was he would think Damian was holding back tears.
âInstead of a child trusting his mother to do right by him.â
Oh shit those were tears. Damian and him had hardly interacted for the month Damian was here. What made Damian care so much about someone he didnât know⌠unless it wasnât about Jason or at least not entirely.
Trying to sound as soft and understanding as he could Jason asked, âDamian what is this really about? You were raised by Raâs and Talia I doubt they taught you about respecting the dead. So what are you actually talking about?â
Damian seemed to pause emotions flickering across his face as he thought about what he was going to say.
âSwear on your life that what I say will never be told to anyone else.â
Well not what Jason was expecting but like hell he was gonna discourage the kid from actually expressing himself. âI swear on my life Damian, nothing will leave this room and itâll stay between us.â
Damian nodded and stiffly took a seat on an armchair near the couch Jason was sitting on.
It took Damian a moment to start speaking, in a quiet voice so different from the one he used as he declared himself the blood son, âI had a twin brother-â
No other sentece could metaphorically knock Jason on his ass like that one did.
â-the two of us were given the honor of watching grandfather rejuvenate himself in the Lazarus Pit, mother⌠Danyal⌠and I were farther away from the pits incase grandfather resurfaced with madness. He came out screaming, he killed the servants at the edge of the pit then came at us. Guards attempted to pull the three of us back but grandfather already had Danyal by the throat. I tried to get to him but the guards held me back, and I watched. I watched as He held him up and choked him before slamming him the the floor. And began beating him.
âI donât know how long it took for grandfather to stop. For Danyal to stop fighting back. And mother did nothing. Just watched with indifference. Grandfather left to clean himself of the blood. Mother put my brother in the pit to heal him. He sank into the water.
He didnât come back out.â
Jason and Damian sat in silence.
âGrandfather said he was weak, that he couldnât fight back against him was disgraceful, that the pit took as a sacrifice, so at least he was useful. Mother said he cared too much about his flights of fancy than training, that he was unfocused, and wouldnât have survived much longer, he was a failure in every aspect and that I should be nothing like him.
âBut he learned faster than I was. He was creative, solving problems quicker and in a different fashion each time, he loved the stars and we would climb to the rooftops together and he would tell me the stories of the stars, he gave scraps of meat to the vultures he encountered on the roofs. He knew more languages than I do. He could hide in the shadows better than anyone I knew, he killed without mercy but was never casually violent. In quiet moments he was gentle, gentle to the birds at are window, gentle with me. He excelled at everything he did and Mother wiped it all away, Grandfather said he was undeserving of the Al Ghul name.â
Jason connected the dots the way Bruce, Dick, and everyone else treated him and his death.
Only useful as a sacrifice to the pits.
A soldier to Batmanâs crusade.
Jason moved to crouch in front of where Damian sat. Telegraphing his movements as he pulled Damian into his lap.
âYour brother, Danyal, right? He sounds wonderful.â
Damian sobbed, a quiet strangled sound proceeded by ugly wet ones into Jasonâs chest.
Damian was afraid that the rest of the bats would do the same thing that Raâs and Talia did, the something the bats did to Jason.
âThank you for telling me Damian. I wonât tell anyone about Danyal but if you ever want to talk about him more I would be honored to listen.â
Welp. This is in my brain now. For better or for worse. So here you go.
âââ
A little while after his conversation with Damian Jason starts standing up for himself. Not physically, but verbally. And if heâs defending someone else too, someone they donât even know, then thatâs just between him and his youngest brother.
âI was just a kid you know.â Itâs an off the wall statement made after one of the increasingly more common shared patrols. And is has the rest of the Bat Clan looking at Jason in confusion. Jason, for his part, is standing by his motorcycle, looking down at the helmet heâd just pulled off with a frown.
âWhat?â And thatâs Dick, confused, but prompting. Always wanting to be there when one of their siblings open up.
âI was just a kid,â Jason repeats, looking up from his helmet to frown at them. âIâve heard about what you lot said about me before I came back, and Iâve heard plenty from all of you now, but before all of thisâbefore The JokerâI was just a kid from a bad home in a bad part of town. I didnât really care about being a vigilante. No big goal or vengeance planned like Dick Wing had when he became Robin. I was just a kid that wanted his new dad to pay love him. To pay attention to him. And since all his time and focus went into being Batman then the best idea I could think of to get that attention was to become a part of that world.
âSo I did. And it worked great! At least until it didnât.â He looked back at his helmet. âI wasnât ever a very good Robin. Too much Crime Alley in me I guess. So when an awful guy died on my watch wellââ he shrugged and met Batmanâs eyes then âIt didnât matter if it was on purpose or not. Because my dad wasnât interested in listening to my explanation. He was convinced it was a sign I was too violent. Too volatile. So I was benched. I wasnât good enough to be Robin. Too dark. Too dangerous. Too much of a kid from Crime Alley.â
Batman-no Bruce, the cowl is off and the man looks stricken, but Jason shakes his head sharply.
âMaybe thatâs not what you meant it to be. But I was fifteen. Thatâs how I took it. So when I found out I still had a mother out thereâsomeone who was supposed to love me no matter whatâ can you really blame me for running off to meet her? Sure it was dumb, but kids do dumb things all the time! Angry and hurt kids especially. So I ran away from home to find her. And was brutally murdered for my troubles. For daring to reach out for the person who *should* have cared about me above all others.â He sighed, placing his helmet ok the handles of his bike. âJust something to keep in mind.â
âWhat-what brought all this on?â Tim sounded a bit lost, but he seemed better off than Bruce or Dick at least. Jason shrugged.
âLike I said. Iâve heard plenty about the things you and Bruce here said about me while I was gone. And Signalâs never been quiet about what he thought about me. So I figured Iâd make sure you had your facts straight. I wasnât some cautionary tale. Or some jerk rebel who ran off and ignored orders to cause trouble. I was just a kid.â
And with that, he turned and started upstairs, leaving a floundering family behind him. All but one. In the emotional chaos the others almost missed his their youngest darted up the stairs to fall into step beside the young crime lord. Walking close enough to brush arms.
Almost. Well. That might answer how he knew about some of the things that were said.
No one said anything about Jason's death for a week. Not in passing, not as a caution. It had been bad when they skirted around the topic before, only bringing up what he 'did wrong' when they needed a lesson taught. Now, though, it was like they couldn't look Jason in the eye.
He knew staying in the manor for so long was a bad idea. When the weekend came around, he was up at dawn. He knew Damian would be up this early, so he took a gamble and climbed to the roof.
"Hey, kid."
"Todd."
Neither spoke as the sun rose, lighting the sky first pink, then orange, the yellow, then blue. When the sky was fully covered in the blue of a new day, Jason spoke.
"I remember when I came back to Gotham," His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I set up in Crime Alley as soon as I could, getting a safe house put together. You wanna know the first thing I did, though?"
Damian didn't ask, but he did raise an eyebrow, looking at his older brother from the corner of his eye.
"The first thing I did was sit on the roof of the clocktower and watch the sunrise."
He knew Jason was a sap at heart, but even this was a bit much in that picture. "Oh? Why?"
"It felt, I guess, like a new beginning? I don't know, really, how to explain outside of that."
"So don't." the child said.
Again, the two lapsed into silence. Again, it was Jason who broke it. "Come on, I've got a surprise for you."
Following his brother off of the roof, Damian asked, "Now? What is it?"
"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it? And, yes, now. I'm kidnapping you for the day."
"This is hardly a proper kidnapping if you're giving me the option."
"Not an option, actually," he smirked, "Let's go tell Alfred so he doesn't skin me when we come back."
"Don't ever go into the kidnapping business, Todd, you'd get caught before you could begin."
Yeah, that was fair. Regardless, a quick relay to Alfred in the kitchen saw the two boys headed to the motorcycle Jason had left in the garage. A one seater, but Damian was small enough to fit on with him. Tossing the boy a helmet with instructions to hold on tight, the two sped off to Gotham Proper.
Under an hour later, because speed laws are suggestions not rules, Jason stopped outside a fairly decent apartment building. Decent by Crime Alley standards, but decent nonetheless.
"Why are we here, Todd?" Damian asked, watching his brother throw a dusty tarp over the bike that he'd hid in a dark corner behind a dumpster.
"I told you," he took the lead up the stairs, "It's a surprise."
Damian did not roll his eyes because that would be uncouth of him. He didn't groan or sigh, either. He did, however, quietly note that he was too old for surprises.
Jason's heart broke a little. Damian isn't even eleven yet. He should be given surprises all the time! This was just another reason why adults couldn't be trusted. They turn children into soldiers instead of letting them be kids.
The top floor of every apartment building in Gotham was empty because of the vigilantes that ran around at night. No one liked to be woken up at two in the morning to footsteps on their roof. So, Jason's apartment sat on the floor just below that in the corner apartment. There was no one directly below him and caution tape covered the door next to him. Ideal for sneaking in and out without nosey neighbors to worry about.
The apartment itself was simply decorated, but lived in. A couch and an armchair sitting in one corner with a coffee table. A broken TV on a stand opposite those with a bookshelf beside it.
The most eye-catching thing in the room, however, was a stool that sat centered on the window between the armchair and the bookshelf. Just enough room on either side for someone to climb through the window without disrupting it.
The stool had a black and white cloth over it, hanging halfway down the legs. On top of that were two candles on either side of an empty picture frame, a vase of carnations, and three cookies.
Rarely was Damian at a loss for words. "What-what is-?"
"From what I understand," Jason explained, not moving from behind and slightly to the left of his youngest brother, "Danyal wasn't laid to rest properly." he risked a glance over, "I don't think you even got to your properly. I know you don't want the others to know, and I know it's not much, but-"
"Congratulations, Jason," Damian didn't turn to look at his brother, "You're my new favorite brother." Jason smiled. "Thank you."
If they shared a hug, or if Damian cried, that was no one's business.
Danny's never had a grave. Not when he died in the lab. Not when he died because of his grandfather. Graves were sacred to ghosts. It was a sign that they were someone before. It was the anchor that kept them from losing themselves to their obsessions. Danny only lasted so long because of his human side acting as his anchor.
Graves, no matter the size shape, type, form, no matter if they're was a burial, a cremation, a funeral, a casket, or even just a memorial with a picture. As long as there was physical proof that someone alive was remembering the deceased, it counted.
Danny never got a grave. Not from his friends or sister who mentally won't accept that he died and still remains, in some capacity, dead. Not from his parents whether because they don't know like his adopted pair, or because they don't care like his bio mom. Not even his twin because his grandfather would have forbidden it because Danny was weak. It would not surprise him if the mere mention of him warranted punishment.
Danny knew he was unlikely to relieve a grave, not until he died a third time and hopefully stayed dead long enough for it to be acknowledged. So he could not help but gasp out loud when he felt a connection form with his soul. It was warm and it brought a sense of joy that Danny never felt before. He didn't know what it was, just that it was the cause of the happy tears streaming down his face. It wouldn't be until he flew to find Frostbite to ask about what it was that he knew that someone made a grave for him. Someone alive was acknowledging his death and remembering him. It wasn't anyone in Amity. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were the only ones who knew and they still won't face the truth so it had to be someone else.
Danny only knew one person outside of Amity that knew of him. Of his life and first death. Someone who was just introduced as the newest son of Bruce Wayne last week. His brother got out of the league and Danny plans.
I want Jason to just come home one night to find a slightly glowy Danny kneeling or floating in front of his little shrine, wistful and sad and grateful.
Danny probably didn't intend on being seen. Its still weeks, maybe even months before hes ready to see Damien. He just wanted to see his grave, follow the comforting little tugs, take in the serenity that is this display that he was is cared for. Isnt that what most ghosts would want?
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In the Danny is Damianâs brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasnât because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.
What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.
Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you donât follow orders. Just like what Raâs said about Danny.
So he didnât tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jasonâs positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.
Whether or not Bruce would do this to Dannyâs memory doesnât matter. Bâs actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.
This!!! Thatâs could be a reason as to why Damian is so continuously antagonistic to Tim! But I have more thoughts now!!!!
ââââ
âTodd how do you not find it distasteful?â
Jason looked up from his book at the kid who hadnât even looked at him since arriving, âwhat do I not find âdistastefulâ?â
âHow this farce of a âfamilyâ treats the memory of the dead? You may have been resurrected, but their disrespect of your past even still is heinous.â
Marking the page and setting the book down on his lap, Jason took a deep breath willing the Lazarus pit to the back of his head. What ever bothered the kid so much to come to him out of anyone in the manor must mean something, âWhat are you on about kid?â
âDrake,â Damian spat like it was nasty on his toung, â spoke of you as if you were some usurper to the greatness of Grayson, that you were a horrible Robin. How Father,â he spoke the title with the same amount of venom, âacted as if you were some delinquent he was forced to leash, who died during an attempt on your life at the hands of your birth mother and a mad man. How they treat you death as temporary it may have been as your fault for being a failure instead ofâŚâ Damian paused.
If Jason didnât know how prideful Damian was how closed off he was he would think Damian was holding back tears.
âInstead of a child trusting his mother to do right by him.â
Oh shit those were tears. Damian and him had hardly interacted for the month Damian was here. What made Damian care so much about someone he didnât know⌠unless it wasnât about Jason or at least not entirely.
Trying to sound as soft and understanding as he could Jason asked, âDamian what is this really about? You were raised by Raâs and Talia I doubt they taught you about respecting the dead. So what are you actually talking about?â
Damian seemed to pause emotions flickering across his face as he thought about what he was going to say.
âSwear on your life that what I say will never be told to anyone else.â
Well not what Jason was expecting but like hell he was gonna discourage the kid from actually expressing himself. âI swear on my life Damian, nothing will leave this room and itâll stay between us.â
Damian nodded and stiffly took a seat on an armchair near the couch Jason was sitting on.
It took Damian a moment to start speaking, in a quiet voice so different from the one he used as he declared himself the blood son, âI had a twin brother-â
No other sentece could metaphorically knock Jason on his ass like that one did.
â-the two of us were given the honor of watching grandfather rejuvenate himself in the Lazarus Pit, mother⌠Danyal⌠and I were farther away from the pits incase grandfather resurfaced with madness. He came out screaming, he killed the servants at the edge of the pit then came at us. Guards attempted to pull the three of us back but grandfather already had Danyal by the throat. I tried to get to him but the guards held me back, and I watched. I watched as He held him up and choked him before slamming him the the floor. And began beating him.
âI donât know how long it took for grandfather to stop. For Danyal to stop fighting back. And mother did nothing. Just watched with indifference. Grandfather left to clean himself of the blood. Mother put my brother in the pit to heal him. He sank into the water.
He didnât come back out.â
Jason and Damian sat in silence.
âGrandfather said he was weak, that he couldnât fight back against him was disgraceful, that the pit took as a sacrifice, so at least he was useful. Mother said he cared too much about his flights of fancy than training, that he was unfocused, and wouldnât have survived much longer, he was a failure in every aspect and that I should be nothing like him.
âBut he learned faster than I was. He was creative, solving problems quicker and in a different fashion each time, he loved the stars and we would climb to the rooftops together and he would tell me the stories of the stars, he gave scraps of meat to the vultures he encountered on the roofs. He knew more languages than I do. He could hide in the shadows better than anyone I knew, he killed without mercy but was never casually violent. In quiet moments he was gentle, gentle to the birds at are window, gentle with me. He excelled at everything he did and Mother wiped it all away, Grandfather said he was undeserving of the Al Ghul name.â
Jason connected the dots the way Bruce, Dick, and everyone else treated him and his death.
Only useful as a sacrifice to the pits.
A soldier to Batmanâs crusade.
Jason moved to crouch in front of where Damian sat. Telegraphing his movements as he pulled Damian into his lap.
âYour brother, Danyal, right? He sounds wonderful.â
Damian sobbed, a quiet strangled sound proceeded by ugly wet ones into Jasonâs chest.
Damian was afraid that the rest of the bats would do the same thing that Raâs and Talia did, the something the bats did to Jason.
âThank you for telling me Damian. I wonât tell anyone about Danyal but if you ever want to talk about him more I would be honored to listen.â
Welp. This is in my brain now. For better or for worse. So here you go.
âââ
A little while after his conversation with Damian Jason starts standing up for himself. Not physically, but verbally. And if heâs defending someone else too, someone they donât even know, then thatâs just between him and his youngest brother.
âI was just a kid you know.â Itâs an off the wall statement made after one of the increasingly more common shared patrols. And is has the rest of the Bat Clan looking at Jason in confusion. Jason, for his part, is standing by his motorcycle, looking down at the helmet heâd just pulled off with a frown.
âWhat?â And thatâs Dick, confused, but prompting. Always wanting to be there when one of their siblings open up.
âI was just a kid,â Jason repeats, looking up from his helmet to frown at them. âIâve heard about what you lot said about me before I came back, and Iâve heard plenty from all of you now, but before all of thisâbefore The JokerâI was just a kid from a bad home in a bad part of town. I didnât really care about being a vigilante. No big goal or vengeance planned like Dick Wing had when he became Robin. I was just a kid that wanted his new dad to pay love him. To pay attention to him. And since all his time and focus went into being Batman then the best idea I could think of to get that attention was to become a part of that world.
âSo I did. And it worked great! At least until it didnât.â He looked back at his helmet. âI wasnât ever a very good Robin. Too much Crime Alley in me I guess. So when an awful guy died on my watch wellââ he shrugged and met Batmanâs eyes then âIt didnât matter if it was on purpose or not. Because my dad wasnât interested in listening to my explanation. He was convinced it was a sign I was too violent. Too volatile. So I was benched. I wasnât good enough to be Robin. Too dark. Too dangerous. Too much of a kid from Crime Alley.â
Batman-no Bruce, the cowl is off and the man looks stricken, but Jason shakes his head sharply.
âMaybe thatâs not what you meant it to be. But I was fifteen. Thatâs how I took it. So when I found out I still had a mother out thereâsomeone who was supposed to love me no matter whatâ can you really blame me for running off to meet her? Sure it was dumb, but kids do dumb things all the time! Angry and hurt kids especially. So I ran away from home to find her. And was brutally murdered for my troubles. For daring to reach out for the person who *should* have cared about me above all others.â He sighed, placing his helmet ok the handles of his bike. âJust something to keep in mind.â
âWhat-what brought all this on?â Tim sounded a bit lost, but he seemed better off than Bruce or Dick at least. Jason shrugged.
âLike I said. Iâve heard plenty about the things you and Bruce here said about me while I was gone. And Signalâs never been quiet about what he thought about me. So I figured Iâd make sure you had your facts straight. I wasnât some cautionary tale. Or some jerk rebel who ran off and ignored orders to cause trouble. I was just a kid.â
And with that, he turned and started upstairs, leaving a floundering family behind him. All but one. In the emotional chaos the others almost missed his their youngest darted up the stairs to fall into step beside the young crime lord. Walking close enough to brush arms.
Almost. Well. That might answer how he knew about some of the things that were said.
No one said anything about Jason's death for a week. Not in passing, not as a caution. It had been bad when they skirted around the topic before, only bringing up what he 'did wrong' when they needed a lesson taught. Now, though, it was like they couldn't look Jason in the eye.
He knew staying in the manor for so long was a bad idea. When the weekend came around, he was up at dawn. He knew Damian would be up this early, so he took a gamble and climbed to the roof.
"Hey, kid."
"Todd."
Neither spoke as the sun rose, lighting the sky first pink, then orange, the yellow, then blue. When the sky was fully covered in the blue of a new day, Jason spoke.
"I remember when I came back to Gotham," His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I set up in Crime Alley as soon as I could, getting a safe house put together. You wanna know the first thing I did, though?"
Damian didn't ask, but he did raise an eyebrow, looking at his older brother from the corner of his eye.
"The first thing I did was sit on the roof of the clocktower and watch the sunrise."
He knew Jason was a sap at heart, but even this was a bit much in that picture. "Oh? Why?"
"It felt, I guess, like a new beginning? I don't know, really, how to explain outside of that."
"So don't." the child said.
Again, the two lapsed into silence. Again, it was Jason who broke it. "Come on, I've got a surprise for you."
Following his brother off of the roof, Damian asked, "Now? What is it?"
"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it? And, yes, now. I'm kidnapping you for the day."
"This is hardly a proper kidnapping if you're giving me the option."
"Not an option, actually," he smirked, "Let's go tell Alfred so he doesn't skin me when we come back."
"Don't ever go into the kidnapping business, Todd, you'd get caught before you could begin."
Yeah, that was fair. Regardless, a quick relay to Alfred in the kitchen saw the two boys headed to the motorcycle Jason had left in the garage. A one seater, but Damian was small enough to fit on with him. Tossing the boy a helmet with instructions to hold on tight, the two sped off to Gotham Proper.
Under an hour later, because speed laws are suggestions not rules, Jason stopped outside a fairly decent apartment building. Decent by Crime Alley standards, but decent nonetheless.
"Why are we here, Todd?" Damian asked, watching his brother throw a dusty tarp over the bike that he'd hid in a dark corner behind a dumpster.
"I told you," he took the lead up the stairs, "It's a surprise."
Damian did not roll his eyes because that would be uncouth of him. He didn't groan or sigh, either. He did, however, quietly note that he was too old for surprises.
Jason's heart broke a little. Damian isn't even eleven yet. He should be given surprises all the time! This was just another reason why adults couldn't be trusted. They turn children into soldiers instead of letting them be kids.
The top floor of every apartment building in Gotham was empty because of the vigilantes that ran around at night. No one liked to be woken up at two in the morning to footsteps on their roof. So, Jason's apartment sat on the floor just below that in the corner apartment. There was no one directly below him and caution tape covered the door next to him. Ideal for sneaking in and out without nosey neighbors to worry about.
The apartment itself was simply decorated, but lived in. A couch and an armchair sitting in one corner with a coffee table. A broken TV on a stand opposite those with a bookshelf beside it.
The most eye-catching thing in the room, however, was a stool that sat centered on the window between the armchair and the bookshelf. Just enough room on either side for someone to climb through the window without disrupting it.
The stool had a black and white cloth over it, hanging halfway down the legs. On top of that were two candles on either side of an empty picture frame, a vase of carnations, and three cookies.
Rarely was Damian at a loss for words. "What-what is-?"
"From what I understand," Jason explained, not moving from behind and slightly to the left of his youngest brother, "Danyal wasn't laid to rest properly." he risked a glance over, "I don't think you even got to your properly. I know you don't want the others to know, and I know it's not much, but-"
"Congratulations, Jason," Damian didn't turn to look at his brother, "You're my new favorite brother." Jason smiled. "Thank you."
If they shared a hug, or if Damian cried, that was no one's business.
Danny's never had a grave. Not when he died in the lab. Not when he died because of his grandfather. Graves were sacred to ghosts. It was a sign that they were someone before. It was the anchor that kept them from losing themselves to their obsessions. Danny only lasted so long because of his human side acting as his anchor.
Graves, no matter the size shape, type, form, no matter if they're was a burial, a cremation, a funeral, a casket, or even just a memorial with a picture. As long as there was physical proof that someone alive was remembering the deceased, it counted.
Danny never got a grave. Not from his friends or sister who mentally won't accept that he died and still remains, in some capacity, dead. Not from his parents whether because they don't know like his adopted pair, or because they don't care like his bio mom. Not even his twin because his grandfather would have forbidden it because Danny was weak. It would not surprise him if the mere mention of him warranted punishment.
Danny knew he was unlikely to relieve a grave, not until he died a third time and hopefully stayed dead long enough for it to be acknowledged. So he could not help but gasp out loud when he felt a connection form with his soul. It was warm and it brought a sense of joy that Danny never felt before. He didn't know what it was, just that it was the cause of the happy tears streaming down his face. It wouldn't be until he flew to find Frostbite to ask about what it was that he knew that someone made a grave for him. Someone alive was acknowledging his death and remembering him. It wasn't anyone in Amity. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were the only ones who knew and they still won't face the truth so it had to be someone else.
Danny only knew one person outside of Amity that knew of him. Of his life and first death. Someone who was just introduced as the newest son of Bruce Wayne last week. His brother got out of the league and Danny plans.
you can lie on the floor in your home and the Soft Baby who lives there will approach you. this will increase your chance of contact with Nose Wet by 75%
Paper cutout animation test! Featuring my wip Moho rig.
I made a quick animation in Moho and then exported the individual frames and used a cricut to cut them out. Then, I did a "quick stop-motion test" on a makeshift light table because I am apparently insane.
(Adding a few sheets of vellum helped sell the look.)
The Moho animation took about 30 mins...filming the stop-motion shot also only took about 30 mins. (because it was only 2 seconds.)
But the printing, cutting, gluing, and other fabrication.....took days.
In the Danny is Damianâs brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasnât because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.
What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.
Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you donât follow orders. Just like what Raâs said about Danny.
So he didnât tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jasonâs positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.
Whether or not Bruce would do this to Dannyâs memory doesnât matter. Bâs actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.
This!!! Thatâs could be a reason as to why Damian is so continuously antagonistic to Tim! But I have more thoughts now!!!!
ââââ
âTodd how do you not find it distasteful?â
Jason looked up from his book at the kid who hadnât even looked at him since arriving, âwhat do I not find âdistastefulâ?â
âHow this farce of a âfamilyâ treats the memory of the dead? You may have been resurrected, but their disrespect of your past even still is heinous.â
Marking the page and setting the book down on his lap, Jason took a deep breath willing the Lazarus pit to the back of his head. What ever bothered the kid so much to come to him out of anyone in the manor must mean something, âWhat are you on about kid?â
âDrake,â Damian spat like it was nasty on his toung, â spoke of you as if you were some usurper to the greatness of Grayson, that you were a horrible Robin. How Father,â he spoke the title with the same amount of venom, âacted as if you were some delinquent he was forced to leash, who died during an attempt on your life at the hands of your birth mother and a mad man. How they treat you death as temporary it may have been as your fault for being a failure instead ofâŚâ Damian paused.
If Jason didnât know how prideful Damian was how closed off he was he would think Damian was holding back tears.
âInstead of a child trusting his mother to do right by him.â
Oh shit those were tears. Damian and him had hardly interacted for the month Damian was here. What made Damian care so much about someone he didnât know⌠unless it wasnât about Jason or at least not entirely.
Trying to sound as soft and understanding as he could Jason asked, âDamian what is this really about? You were raised by Raâs and Talia I doubt they taught you about respecting the dead. So what are you actually talking about?â
Damian seemed to pause emotions flickering across his face as he thought about what he was going to say.
âSwear on your life that what I say will never be told to anyone else.â
Well not what Jason was expecting but like hell he was gonna discourage the kid from actually expressing himself. âI swear on my life Damian, nothing will leave this room and itâll stay between us.â
Damian nodded and stiffly took a seat on an armchair near the couch Jason was sitting on.
It took Damian a moment to start speaking, in a quiet voice so different from the one he used as he declared himself the blood son, âI had a twin brother-â
No other sentece could metaphorically knock Jason on his ass like that one did.
â-the two of us were given the honor of watching grandfather rejuvenate himself in the Lazarus Pit, mother⌠Danyal⌠and I were farther away from the pits incase grandfather resurfaced with madness. He came out screaming, he killed the servants at the edge of the pit then came at us. Guards attempted to pull the three of us back but grandfather already had Danyal by the throat. I tried to get to him but the guards held me back, and I watched. I watched as He held him up and choked him before slamming him the the floor. And began beating him.
âI donât know how long it took for grandfather to stop. For Danyal to stop fighting back. And mother did nothing. Just watched with indifference. Grandfather left to clean himself of the blood. Mother put my brother in the pit to heal him. He sank into the water.
He didnât come back out.â
Jason and Damian sat in silence.
âGrandfather said he was weak, that he couldnât fight back against him was disgraceful, that the pit took as a sacrifice, so at least he was useful. Mother said he cared too much about his flights of fancy than training, that he was unfocused, and wouldnât have survived much longer, he was a failure in every aspect and that I should be nothing like him.
âBut he learned faster than I was. He was creative, solving problems quicker and in a different fashion each time, he loved the stars and we would climb to the rooftops together and he would tell me the stories of the stars, he gave scraps of meat to the vultures he encountered on the roofs. He knew more languages than I do. He could hide in the shadows better than anyone I knew, he killed without mercy but was never casually violent. In quiet moments he was gentle, gentle to the birds at are window, gentle with me. He excelled at everything he did and Mother wiped it all away, Grandfather said he was undeserving of the Al Ghul name.â
Jason connected the dots the way Bruce, Dick, and everyone else treated him and his death.
Only useful as a sacrifice to the pits.
A soldier to Batmanâs crusade.
Jason moved to crouch in front of where Damian sat. Telegraphing his movements as he pulled Damian into his lap.
âYour brother, Danyal, right? He sounds wonderful.â
Damian sobbed, a quiet strangled sound proceeded by ugly wet ones into Jasonâs chest.
Damian was afraid that the rest of the bats would do the same thing that Raâs and Talia did, the something the bats did to Jason.
âThank you for telling me Damian. I wonât tell anyone about Danyal but if you ever want to talk about him more I would be honored to listen.â
Welp. This is in my brain now. For better or for worse. So here you go.
âââ
A little while after his conversation with Damian Jason starts standing up for himself. Not physically, but verbally. And if heâs defending someone else too, someone they donât even know, then thatâs just between him and his youngest brother.
âI was just a kid you know.â Itâs an off the wall statement made after one of the increasingly more common shared patrols. And is has the rest of the Bat Clan looking at Jason in confusion. Jason, for his part, is standing by his motorcycle, looking down at the helmet heâd just pulled off with a frown.
âWhat?â And thatâs Dick, confused, but prompting. Always wanting to be there when one of their siblings open up.
âI was just a kid,â Jason repeats, looking up from his helmet to frown at them. âIâve heard about what you lot said about me before I came back, and Iâve heard plenty from all of you now, but before all of thisâbefore The JokerâI was just a kid from a bad home in a bad part of town. I didnât really care about being a vigilante. No big goal or vengeance planned like Dick Wing had when he became Robin. I was just a kid that wanted his new dad to pay love him. To pay attention to him. And since all his time and focus went into being Batman then the best idea I could think of to get that attention was to become a part of that world.
âSo I did. And it worked great! At least until it didnât.â He looked back at his helmet. âI wasnât ever a very good Robin. Too much Crime Alley in me I guess. So when an awful guy died on my watch wellââ he shrugged and met Batmanâs eyes then âIt didnât matter if it was on purpose or not. Because my dad wasnât interested in listening to my explanation. He was convinced it was a sign I was too violent. Too volatile. So I was benched. I wasnât good enough to be Robin. Too dark. Too dangerous. Too much of a kid from Crime Alley.â
Batman-no Bruce, the cowl is off and the man looks stricken, but Jason shakes his head sharply.
âMaybe thatâs not what you meant it to be. But I was fifteen. Thatâs how I took it. So when I found out I still had a mother out thereâsomeone who was supposed to love me no matter whatâ can you really blame me for running off to meet her? Sure it was dumb, but kids do dumb things all the time! Angry and hurt kids especially. So I ran away from home to find her. And was brutally murdered for my troubles. For daring to reach out for the person who *should* have cared about me above all others.â He sighed, placing his helmet ok the handles of his bike. âJust something to keep in mind.â
âWhat-what brought all this on?â Tim sounded a bit lost, but he seemed better off than Bruce or Dick at least. Jason shrugged.
âLike I said. Iâve heard plenty about the things you and Bruce here said about me while I was gone. And Signalâs never been quiet about what he thought about me. So I figured Iâd make sure you had your facts straight. I wasnât some cautionary tale. Or some jerk rebel who ran off and ignored orders to cause trouble. I was just a kid.â
And with that, he turned and started upstairs, leaving a floundering family behind him. All but one. In the emotional chaos the others almost missed his their youngest darted up the stairs to fall into step beside the young crime lord. Walking close enough to brush arms.
Almost. Well. That might answer how he knew about some of the things that were said.
No one said anything about Jason's death for a week. Not in passing, not as a caution. It had been bad when they skirted around the topic before, only bringing up what he 'did wrong' when they needed a lesson taught. Now, though, it was like they couldn't look Jason in the eye.
He knew staying in the manor for so long was a bad idea. When the weekend came around, he was up at dawn. He knew Damian would be up this early, so he took a gamble and climbed to the roof.
"Hey, kid."
"Todd."
Neither spoke as the sun rose, lighting the sky first pink, then orange, the yellow, then blue. When the sky was fully covered in the blue of a new day, Jason spoke.
"I remember when I came back to Gotham," His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I set up in Crime Alley as soon as I could, getting a safe house put together. You wanna know the first thing I did, though?"
Damian didn't ask, but he did raise an eyebrow, looking at his older brother from the corner of his eye.
"The first thing I did was sit on the roof of the clocktower and watch the sunrise."
He knew Jason was a sap at heart, but even this was a bit much in that picture. "Oh? Why?"
"It felt, I guess, like a new beginning? I don't know, really, how to explain outside of that."
"So don't." the child said.
Again, the two lapsed into silence. Again, it was Jason who broke it. "Come on, I've got a surprise for you."
Following his brother off of the roof, Damian asked, "Now? What is it?"
"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it? And, yes, now. I'm kidnapping you for the day."
"This is hardly a proper kidnapping if you're giving me the option."
"Not an option, actually," he smirked, "Let's go tell Alfred so he doesn't skin me when we come back."
"Don't ever go into the kidnapping business, Todd, you'd get caught before you could begin."
Yeah, that was fair. Regardless, a quick relay to Alfred in the kitchen saw the two boys headed to the motorcycle Jason had left in the garage. A one seater, but Damian was small enough to fit on with him. Tossing the boy a helmet with instructions to hold on tight, the two sped off to Gotham Proper.
Under an hour later, because speed laws are suggestions not rules, Jason stopped outside a fairly decent apartment building. Decent by Crime Alley standards, but decent nonetheless.
"Why are we here, Todd?" Damian asked, watching his brother throw a dusty tarp over the bike that he'd hid in a dark corner behind a dumpster.
"I told you," he took the lead up the stairs, "It's a surprise."
Damian did not roll his eyes because that would be uncouth of him. He didn't groan or sigh, either. He did, however, quietly note that he was too old for surprises.
Jason's heart broke a little. Damian isn't even eleven yet. He should be given surprises all the time! This was just another reason why adults couldn't be trusted. They turn children into soldiers instead of letting them be kids.
The top floor of every apartment building in Gotham was empty because of the vigilantes that ran around at night. No one liked to be woken up at two in the morning to footsteps on their roof. So, Jason's apartment sat on the floor just below that in the corner apartment. There was no one directly below him and caution tape covered the door next to him. Ideal for sneaking in and out without nosey neighbors to worry about.
The apartment itself was simply decorated, but lived in. A couch and an armchair sitting in one corner with a coffee table. A broken TV on a stand opposite those with a bookshelf beside it.
The most eye-catching thing in the room, however, was a stool that sat centered on the window between the armchair and the bookshelf. Just enough room on either side for someone to climb through the window without disrupting it.
The stool had a black and white cloth over it, hanging halfway down the legs. On top of that were two candles on either side of an empty picture frame, a vase of carnations, and three cookies.
Rarely was Damian at a loss for words. "What-what is-?"
"From what I understand," Jason explained, not moving from behind and slightly to the left of his youngest brother, "Danyal wasn't laid to rest properly." he risked a glance over, "I don't think you even got to mourn properly. I know you don't want the others to know, and I know it's not much, but-"
"Congratulations, Jason," Damian didn't turn to look at his brother, "You're my new favorite brother." Jason smiled. "Thank you."
If they shared a hug, or if Damian cried, that was no one's business.
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Erid receiving a visit from humans years after they discovered that Grace was alive, but Ryland is completely terrified, grabbing anything he can use as a weapon to protect Rocky and Adrian, shouting at the ship while they both r just "/we/ are the ones who should be protecting you"
yes, he saved Earth. yes, he misses Earth and the company of his own species, but heâs still deeply traumatized by his last experiences and fears they might hurt his two mates or try to take him back
