Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.
scenarios Alfred Pennyworth has to be a witness to as a resident of Wayne Manor that the batkids have absolutely no shame in front of whatsoever part 16 (masterpost here)
*Alfred bringing tea and a plate of biscuits down to the cave during a monthly mandatory strategy meeting, with Bruce stood at the head of a table all the kids are seated around*
Duke: i shouldn't even have to be here, i'm the only one on dayshift.
Jason: uh- i reject that; i'm doin' shit during the day too, y'know.
Duke, without missing a beat: that's because you're unemployed and have no civilian friends, there's a fucking difference Jason.
Dick: *covers his mouth, snickering*
Bruce: now, boys-
Jason: i will jump over this table, brightshit. try me.
Duke: *flips Jason off*
Jason, starting to get up: oh you want it-?
Alfred, pointedly putting the tray of snacks down in between them, giving them both warning glares: i trust that the meeting is going well?
*a beat*
Jason, sitting back down: dammit,
Bruce: *sigh* thank you, Alfred. now if we could just get back to-
Duke: i still don't want to be here.
Bruce: oh for- we've been over this, Duke. everybody has to attend these meetings.
Damian: just because you say something is mandatory doesn't mean it's actually necessary. it's subjective.
Bruce: it's not subjective, it's fact. if we don't take time to co-ordinate ourselves then we're more liable to miscommunicate and get ourselves, or others, hurt. it's important that we take this time to go over protocols and codes, as well as alert everybody of upcoming missions. it's not like you have anything better to do tonight, Damian.
Damian: what the hell,
Dick: oooh~
Damian: how dare you; i have plenty of ways to spend my evening, thank you very much-
Bruce, pinching the bridge of his nose: i didn't mean it that way, chum, can we just-
Damian: for starters, Drake and I have a new Lego set to construct, which you are selfishly taking time away from!
Steph, squinting across at Tim: sorry, you two build Lego sets together?
Tim: *defensive* what, mad that he doesn't play with you?
Steph, turning to Damian incredulously: well fucking yes?? dude- i ask you to hang out all the time. how come you'll play with Tim but not me!?
Damian, easily: because your version of hanging out is just dragging me all over Gotham while we stalk your English professor. i don't give a fuck which of the PA's he's hooking up with, Brown. i just want to build Lego.
Alfred: *watches with narrowed eyes as Cass slowly leans forward and drags the entire plate of biscuits towards herself*
Bruce: Damian, language.
Damian: me?!
Dick: fuck yeah, bring down the hammer, B.
Bruce, exhausted: can we all just-
Damian, planting his hands on the table: NO, WHY AREN'T YOU GETTING MAD WHEN THEY SWEAR?
Bruce: Damian- sit back down,
Jason, casually putting his feet on the table: it's 'cause you do it wrong, Dames. the curse word has to fall off the tongue comfortably, so that nobody even realises it shouldn't be in the sentence. *tipping his head up to show his mouth* you gotta- like this, roll your tongue slightly, just let it fall off, see: cunt.
Damian, copying: cunt.
Jason: cunt,
Damian: cunt.
Bruce, staring between the two in defeat: *makes eye contact with Alfred pleadingly*
Alfred: *shrugs*
Jason: cunt,
Damian: cunt, like that?
Jason: yeah, but in a sentence.
Damian: Dick Grayson is a cunt. like that?
Jason: yeah you got it.
Dick: WOAH WOAH- why am i catching strays? the fuck did i do?
Tim, flatly: if you hadn't fucked up the protocol code names three months ago, we wouldn't have to do these meetings.
Duke, pointing at Tim in agreement: that's true.
Dick: I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE, JACKASSES, STEPH DID IT TOO!
Steph: at least i was concussed. you're just an idiot.
Dick: *visibly offended* i'll have you know-
Bruce, snapping: ok that is IT. all of you sit back down, we are going over the current standing protocols and that is FINAL. none of you are leaving until i dismiss you, and if you don't comply then you will be benched for the foreseeable future, understood?
*silence*
*the kids awkwardly exchanging glances as they settle back down into their chairs*
Bruce, sighing in relief: finally. now, can we all-
Jason: *sticks his hand up in the air*
Bruce:
Bruce: *wary* what is it about, Jason?
Jason, innocently: i have a question about the protocols.
Bruce: ...go on then.
Jason: what's the protocol for when you let a call from your overbearing father go to voicemail because you're busy getting it on with Roy Harper mid-patrol, and then said overbearing father just hacks into your private com line mid-fuck anyway, completely ignoring your boundaries and throwing off the mood, all because he wanted to ask whether or not you'd prefer fish or chicken for the family barbeque that weekend?
*complete and utter silence*
Alfred: *stares in disappointment at a rapidly reddening Bruce*
Duke, grinning wildly as he looks between Bruce and Jason: has that ever happened?
Jason, flatly: three times.
Bruce:
Bruce:
Cass: *loudly crunches on biscuits*
Bruce: ok Jason you can go,
Jason, already leaping out his chair: SEE YOU SUCKERS-
Steph: WOAH- HOLD ON, HOLD ON-
Dick: THAT'S SO UNFAIR,
Duke: JUST BECAUSE HE'S A SLUT HE GETS TO AVOID THE MEETINGS?!
Bruce: -STOP SHOUTING AT ME-
Damian: so what i'm hearing is that to get out of these ridiculous things, i just have to tell Jon he's allowed to hit?
*silence*
Bruce, to Damian: ...ok you're grounded,
Tim: Steph, i know we broke up years ago and you're technically my sister now but i feel like this is for the greater good-
Tim Drake finds a handheld mirror when he decides to go on a side quest and visit estate sales instead of going to class. Normally, Tim doesn't buy anything other than vintage comic books, but for some reason, the little mirror held together by twisting black metal caught his attention.
It wasn't valuable. He could tell that by a glance, but it had a certain presence that called to him. A charm that was endearing enough, he found himself reaching into his pocket for a crisp ten-dollar bill. With the mirror in his bag and his skateboard under his feet, Tim flew through Gotham, occasionally leaning to avoid obstacles. A stray thought about school entered his mind, but Tim quickly dismissed the idea. He had already missed most of the morning; there would be no point in going for the rest of the day.
Instead, he finds his way to the skate park, pleased to see it empty. For five hours, he boards. Doing flips and tricks that no one but himself could see. It was freeing not to have to put on a show, not to be the little heir his parents wanted, the smartest in the room among his peers, or any other performing or exhausting act.
Here he was just Tim. Another face lost in the sea of people, who always preferred his own company to that of others. It's something his teachers have noticed and brought up to his parents in a "this is an issue that needs to be addressed" sort of tone. His parents nodded and looked appropriately worried, but once they were away from the school, they assured him it was fine.
That Tim didn't have to make friends if he didn't want to. His mom and dad also preferred thier own company as kids, and his grandparents' attempts to force them to do things they didn't like were the reason why his parents refused to speak to them. Both sets of his grandparents had rules for everything. His grandparents had to approve every aspect of their lives, so that eventually their children couldn't even have preferences for favorite drinks or music without asking permission.
Jack and Janet grew up with everything being decided for them by thier parents. Tim, in turn, grew with his parents deciding nothing for him, and letting him have complete freedom. Some say it's because Jack and Janet didn't care, but Tim knew better.
They called every day, smiled when he told his stories, and smothered him in toys and other joys. That was love. They just traveled a lot for work. Plenty of parents did that; heck, three kids in his class had one or more parents in service and were often missing for deployment.
So yes, he did get a little lonely when the three-hour call ended, and maybe he didn't have proper structure, as some adults claimed, but Tim wasn't sad. He lived in a big manor, had plenty of money, warm meals prepared by a cook, a warm bed, and clean clothes provided by a maid service that came every other day. He had everything he needed.
Plus his nighttime hobby. The rush of following Batman and Robin, watching from the scene itself as his heros saved the day and took down evil. There was nothing as addicting as figuring out clues alongside them- even if they never knew that he pieced together the answers- and watching Robin be the light that Gotham desperately needed.
Watching them from behind his camera lends always made Tim feel like he could do anything too. That included ditching a day of class to go do something that actually interested him.
After five hours of skateboarding, Tim was rather hungry and decided to leave the park. He seemed to pick the perfect time because a loud and overly cheerful group of teenagers suddenly burst from the street, each carrying a board or skates. They quickly take over the biggest bowl in the park, standing on the side as each one goes down for a quick routine.
Tim grimaces, only because he knows them. That particular group isn't the friendliest and had practically run him out the last time he was in the bowl. They mostly leave everyone alone, but for some reason, they did not like sharing thier spot, even if it was already in use by someone else.
He's grateful his empty stomach has gotten him out of that particular confrontation as he wanders through the street, board tucked under his arm. He never knows what he's in the mood to eat, until he sees it, which is how he often finds hole-in-the-wall places that taste far better than any chain restaurant can ever hope to come close to. Most of the time, Tim just walks until he finds somewhere new to eat.
He does so now, wandering in a new direction from the park he hasn't taken before.
Tim has to sidestep a lot because most people don't see him (or, if they do, they don't care about bumping into him). His shortness had always belied his age, but Tim knows it's only until he hits puberty.
He'll grow taller then. Bigger. Or at least that's what the books he secertly read in the libary said.
Right now, he has to deal with being nine and small and having people weave out of each other's way except for him. He frowns when one man opens the door to a restaurant, nearly knocking Tim over as he walks outside.
"Whoa! Sorry! Didn't see you there," The man laughs, having twisted on his heel at the last second to avoid Tim.
"It's alright," Tim replies softly, not really forgiving but knowing he should be. It's what is expected of him in situations like these. He's proven right when the man's face relaxes, and he leaves without much fanfare
Tim watches him go before turning his attention to the restaurant. It's a small place, likely owned by the family that works there. The window has some posters of the wares. Tim quickly concludes it's Chinese, likely more home-cooked meals than the regular buffet style he likes to visit. His stomach growls once, and that's enough for him to open the door and go inside. He's greeted by the employees and told to sit wherever he likes.
He picks the far corner, closest to the bathroom, but he hides behind a pillar that practically hides him from the rest. He sits with his back to the wall, facing the entrance, leaning his board against the wall to his right, and setting his bag on the bench to his right. A waitress comes over with a menu and a glass of ice water, smiling at him politely and asking what he would like to drink besides that.
Tim appreciates that she doesn't ask too many questions. Most people look concerned when someone as small as him wanders in, and oftentimes, he has to answer, "Where are your parents?" "Are you lost?" "Do you have money to pay?" before they serve him.
For that alone, he's going to leave her a fifty as a tip.
"An iced tea with raspberry, please," Tim tells her, attempting his most polite voice. She beams, obviously charmed by his efforts, and with a sweet reminder to take his time on the menu, she disappears towards the back. Tim waits until he's sure she won't return, then digs through his bag with the intention of looking over some photos that he had developed (None from his Batman camera of course)
His fingers brush up against metal. Like a jolt of electricity down his spine, Tim has a sudden, inexplicable urge to hold the mirror.
That's not good, he thinks as he tugs it out. It's still the same black metal with green gems- fake ones, he can tell the difference- as it was when he purchased it earlier that day, with a plain reflective surface glass shaped like a heart. The only difference is that, while before it had a presence, now it practically dominated the room. Not good at all.
Tim was no stranger to cursed items. His parents' work meant they often encountered things beyond human comprehension. He could name five times alone when his father called, laughing hysterically, because his mother had set some magical trap in a tome: She really needed to stop touching things that had symbols of birds on them, even if she adored the animal.
His parents also shipped back items that were somehow magical, wanting them on display in the "Magic room". Jack claimed thier family used to have witches and magic sung in the Drake blood before it was smothered out by the new blood introduced in marriages. They weren't about to perform magic, but the Drakes could sense when something was there.
The Magic Room was the place they put all magic, haunted, or otherwise questionable items that could be considered supernatural. Even the family portraits hung there were only of those who had "a closer tie to magic." They only had four hung up.
Tim believed in magic and ghosts and spirits and all that stuff, but he always doubted those in his family could actually do it. He liked to think it was just people who were more intelligent than normal, and that people of the past couldn't understand that without falsely claiming it was due to magic rather than to more advanced individuals. Still, it didn't mean he wasn't aware that he and his father always stiffened up at the same time, always looked in the same direction of empty air when something pings their alertness, and instinctively knew that some items were more than met the eye.
The mirror was one of those things.
It was compelling Tim to look into it, and despite his mind screaming at him to put it down, his body moved on its own. Tim held the mirror up to his face, looking into his own reflection as it cautiously let its eyes roam.
He knows he is looking at himself, but a part of him couldn't help but think it was the other way around. His reflection was the one studying him. He's proven right, for a split second, it smirks at him even though Tim's own lips haven't so much as twitched.
"Are you ready to order?" The waitress returns, breaking the spell. Tim carefully sets the mirror down, making sure it's flipped so the glass faces the tabletop, and smiles at the woman.
He orders something random, letting his finger point to words on the menu. He gets an appetizer, two entrees, and even a dessert for two before he realizes what he's doing. She writes it all down, not questioning the reasoning why someone so small would need that much food, and then she's collecting the menu. He stays silent as she moves, waiting until she once again disappears into the back, before the urge to use the mirror hits like a ton of bricks.
Don't, a voice in his mind hisses Don't do it. Don't let it win.
Tim resists for a solid three minutes before his hand closes around the mirror's handle. He can't remember moving his arm to do so, but it's up and in his face again before he can stop it.
"Crab cakes," He whispers, staring at the glass. Or rather the empty glass. His reflection is gone.
"Is that a swear? You said it like it's a swear, but I'm pretty sure it's food." A voice, an alarmingly familiar voice, asks. It's laced with humor, almost good-natured teasing, but it's coming from across the table from him. The once-empty side of the table. Tim swallows, refusing to look up, even though he can feel someone- or something- sitting there now.
He doesn't lower the mirror, pretending to find it utterly fascinating as his mind whirls. He tried to call upon all the knowledge he knows about magic or paranormal- he thinks this is a ghost thing- that his Dad had tried to stuff into his mind between trips around the world, but he comes up with a blank on what to do about possible mirror-escaping monsters. He just knows he could not acknowledge it under any circumstances.
"Hello," The waitress beams, coming back to the table. Tim jerks about to raise his head and greet, but he's able to force himself still at the last second. He didn't mean to be rude, but he can not- "Your brother didn't order a drink for you. What would you like, dear?"
"A cola, please," The thing sitting across from him answers. Unlike Tim's soft-spoken, well-mannered voice, the thing speaks in a polite, friendly, and open voice, almost jolly
Drat, she acknowledged it.
"Of course. I'll be right back," The waitress replies, equally as charmed by it as she had been by Tim. He can tell by the rise of her voice, the hidden aw in her words.
Tim waits until her footsteps sound far enough away before lifting his head and taking a look at what has managed to escape the mirror. He's not surprised to find himself staring at an exact copy of himself, down to the hidden dimple on his right cheek that only appears when he smirks.
It's dressed the same, with a board and a bag thrown carelessly on the floor. Tim chose the side with the booth because he hates sitting in chairs. They make it impossible to lounge. It's also sitting with perfect posture compared to Tim's slouch, and it's currently trying to brush down the wind-spread hair on its head.
Tim never bothered after riding his board, and always let it fly wherever his hair wanted to, knowing that eventually it would fall back into place. He had extremely straight hair.
Despite the fingers combing through its hair, its blue eyes were on Tim, and its smirk grew wider when it realized it finally had his attention. Counter to the smugness of its expression, its tone was rather friendly as it spoke. "Hello there. I'm Danny."
The thing- Danny- had a name. It had a personality, and, based on the way it was looking at him, it also had a plan.
Likely to replace me, Tim thought wearily, but not allowing that to show on his face. Or trick me into going into the mirror.
There were many ways he could play this, but the best and the most effective way his father ever taught him was the one he chose.
"Hi Danny, I'm Tim. Why do you look like me?" He puts the mirrior down, staring wide eye and captivated at Danny. The being across from him sits up straighter, and despite no change in his expression or body language, Tim can sense that it is satisfied with his response.
You have to trick them into thinking they tricked you. His Dad's voice echoes in his mind. Whenever you encounter something or someone stronger than you, the best thing to do is play along until you can find an opening and break them apart from the inside.
"I look like you because we're twins!" Danny informs Tim as if sharing a great secret. Tim wants to smash the mirror on its head. Does it think he's a stupid kid who would believe such a bad lie?
"Really?" He asks instead, leaning forward as if he had always known his sudden twin brother.
"Really, really," Danny confirms, taking a sip of his water. He beams at the cup, like he's never had something so delicious before. Tim is pretty sure it's just tap water, but he wonders if it's been so long since it was out of the mirror that it's forgotten what water tastes like. "Why don't we eat and then go home. I love to catch up with my baby brother!"
"Okay"
After they have lunch, Tim leads Danny back to the Manor, finding some time to slip away and send his parents a quick email when the mirror creature decides to explore. He makes sure to go into his wooden closet, checking to see if anything reflects before opening his laptop.
It's quick and to the point.
Bad news, picked up a curse mirror, let out a mirror creature that looks like me and is pretending to be my twin. Play along until I banish it.
His father replies within seconds, likely having been glancing at his emails when it happened. Makes sense since he's pretty sure it's in the late evening over there, and that's what Jack does before he goes to sleep.
Alright, pour purified salt in a face mask mix and create a perfect circle on your face to keep it away from harming you without it knowing you know. Keep it out of the magic room. Your mother and I are coming home first plane out. Love you, stay safe.
Tim does as he told, even putting a line of salt in front of the magic room and all the windows, sealing it off. Danny doesn't noticed beacuse it's too busy wandering around the manor, poking at the corners with narrow eyes. The only proper way to banish it, is to find out what it wants. Danny doesn't tell him right away, and after a dinner, a shower, and even giving him a room to sleep in, he doesn't make a move.
Tim still gets his protective face mask on, acting like he was obsessed with beauty trends, even when Danny makes a displeased face at the mixer. He falls asleep much later than usual, but once he confirms that Danny had stayed in his room, he can't find another excuse to stay awake.
The next day, his parents return at midday, acting as if they had always known they had twins, even as Danny seems surprised. No one points out any oddness, no one makes a comment about the strangeness of it all, and over the course of a week, Danny slowly relaxes into his slot in the family.
The Drakes let him- Tim no longer calling him a it after Danny loudly and proudly claimed his pronouns- but all three keep an eye on the situation. They record everything, search for any legend that can tell them about the black mirror, and slowly but surely start to lead the mirror thing into a false sense of security.
It's by the end of that week that they know they will never be able to banish Danny, not without one of them dying in the process, and they decide that the best course of action is to let Danny become attached to them. They treat him as a son and a brother, a valued and important member of the Drake family.
Years go by, and soon everyone forgets that Danny wasn't always there. News report on the twins: Drake employees smile at the boss's kids, equally polite and nervous, and even Batman believes the boy is a real flesh-and-blood little boy.
But the Drakes know better, and they lie in wait to rip the veil off of Danny's facade.
Tim keeps the mirror safely tucked away in a vault in the magic room, smothering its presence with layers of layers of wards placed there by previous Drakes. Danny never asks for it, which leads him to know that it holds the key to sending him back.
i love BAMF 10 yr old Damian who can clock everybody's shit, but there is also something so funny to me about dumb-bitch-child Damian. like i need there to be a world where. hold on no i just need to write the conversation hold on
-
*Damian, out of nowhere on patrol one night*
Damian: you know.., there was a solid 2 year period at the league compound where i thought you were Batman.
Jason:
Jason: what?
Damian: yeah- ‘cause like, i was seven. and i met you for the first time after you came out the pit and were all big already. and i didn’t know anything about my father apart from, like, what my mother told me of him, right? and so when i met you, and i never actually heard anybody call you your name—just Mother referring to you as ‘one of Gotham’s greatest heroes’ and everybody calling you ‘prince’, in my little seven-year-old head, i was like ‘ok so this must be him then’.
Jason: what the fuck.
Damian: well you looked a lot like him. i’d only ever seen one grainy photo of the man taken from a distance and you fit the description; same build, hair, eyes, broody manner and passion for justice. you were everything i’d ever thought Batman was supposed to be, so when Mother started giving you special treatment and demanding you be treated like somebody important within the league, i thought that was just her lingering affection for an ex.
Jason:
Jason: is that why you made me teach you how to ride a bike?
Damian: yeah i was trying to make up for lost time.
Damian: i don’t know how you didn’t pick up on it—i called you Father like, religiously.
Jason: …to be honest i just wasn’t fluent in Arabic yet. when i finally did figure out that’s what you were saying i just assumed you were making a dig at the fact that i slept with Talia that one time.
Damian: yeah that was- can i be honest with you? i set that up.
Jason:
Jason: what.
Damian: originally Mother wasn’t going to meet with you in person that night, she was going to send a messenger in place, but i snuck into her chambers and edited her schedule so she’d be in the area anyway and would go see you herself.
Jason:
Damian: then i ordered food for where you were staying online in the hopes that you'd chat and realise you still loved each other.
Jason: that’s where those oysters came from-!
Damian: yeah i didn’t- i didn’t actually realise how problematic you and her being together was until after i came to Gotham. i was just trying to have a parent-trap moment and get my mom and dad back together, you know? i didn’t know you were seventeen, i just thought the Lazarus Pit had made you look more youthful than before.
Jason:
Jason, dryly: because famously, as you can tell by looking at Ra’s, that’s what the Lazarus Pit does.
Damian: listen i was eight.
Damian: -and i didn’t force you guys to do anything—this is still on my Mother for going with it; and for bad communication. if she had at any point spoken to me clearly about my father then that misunderstanding wouldn’t have ever happened.
Jason: so… when did you figure out I wasn’t Bruce Wayne…?
Damian:
Damian: well… it was complicated?
Jason: which means?
Damian: it means at first Mother told me i was just going to Gotham with you, which made me think, like, ‘yay, i get to go home with Dad’ right? and then we got to Gotham and saw Batman and Robin out and you started getting mad at a ‘replacement’, and i thought you were mad because your Robin replaced you with a new Batman.
Jason, incredulous: oh my god.
Damian: -yeah, but then we had that whole confrontation with them during patrol where you told Batman i was his son and that Talia Al Ghul wanted you to put me in his care, and i was just standing behind you like… what fucking game are you playing here Father?
Jason: *snort* you didn’t- that didn’t fucking tip you off?
Damian: no! i was like 2 years deep into this belief at this point, nothing was gonna shake me. i came to the conclusion that you were sending me in as a spy or something, so i went along with it. we got back to Wayne Manor and Pennyworth greeted Batman by saying ‘welcome back, Master Bruce’ and i got really mad at Tim because i was like ‘oh so not only did he replace Batman but he did it with the first fat fuck he found with the same first name, huh.’
Jason: *wheeze*
Damian: so i didn’t really try to kill Tim because i wanted Robin; i was doing it for your, the original Batman’s, honour.
Jason: oh my god????
Damian: ...yeah. i didn't- ok, honestly? i didn't really clock that you weren't the original Batman until after you unmasked yourself in front of everyone for the first time.
Jason: -EXCUSE ME-?
Damian: because- BECAUSE, in the league everybody just called you by 'prince' or 'the Gotham boy', and then in Gotham nobody knew your identity so everybody just called you Red Hood. it wasn't until you revealed your identity to the family and everybody started crying about some 'Jason Todd' that was still alive that i came to the realisation that nobody had ever point blank told me your name was Bruce Wayne.
Jason, in awe: wait- wait oh my god i do remember you being really fucking quiet during that whole reveal..,
Damian: yeah i was- i was coming to terms with a lot of stuff in that moment.
Jason: WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?!
Damian: what am i, stupid? looking back a year or so later, yeah it's a funny memory of how stupid i was as a kid. in the moment? you couldn't have fucking waterboarded that info out of me.
Jason:
Jason: you know. it does kinda- oh my god it makes so much sense now,
Damian: what does?
Jason: Tim told me the first time they let you in the Batcave he watched you walk up to my memorial case, read the plaque, and then loudly go, 'who the fuck is Jason Todd'. and i always thought that was real fuckin' weird considering i'm your emergency contact.
Damian: *wheezes*
Jason: were you disappointed that the fake-Bruce was your actual dad, then?
Damian: honestly i was more troubled at the realisation that i'd actively participated in the action of trying to get my mother and adoptive brother to bang.
AU where the GIW was really pulled together to contain Amity Park, not ghosts.
Because Amity Park is alive in all the ways a city shouldn't be, and has the capability to be a world ending threat.
Well, not really, but the GIW doesn't really understand that.
When the Portal opened up, it made Amity Park a living, thriving thing. Constantly expanding, constantly evolving, constantly changing. Buildings pop up and no one knows where they came from, streets get rearranged all the time, and only the locals seem to be able to make any sense of it all.
Honestly, the GIW thinks that Jack and Maddie Fenton contained the portal, not that they opened it. The GIW think that ghosts are like the city's immune system, and need to be culled in order to prevent Amity from getting strong enough to spread.
Because without any of the residents realizing it, Amity Park tripled in size by devouring the surrounding areas. People in close by neighboring cities woke up one day to a fully urbanized area completely surrounding theirs, slowly over the course of that day forgetting that they were ever in any other city.
So to contain a living city that spreads like a disease, the GIW do what they think is needed to cut it down to size. Wanton public destruction, killing off the city's immune system, trying to sever people's connection to the city, through slightly unethical means of human experimentation.
The city responded by sending stronger and stronger "Ghosts".
The GIW petitioned the US government with evidence that the city could, potentially, overtake the entire world. That there would be no land left for farming, no rivers or oceans left to fish. A total global catastrophe.
The US government agreed.
Now, when they're worried that Amity spread out or that another city is gaining abilities like Amity, they call in the GIW to investigate.
The problem with this is that the GIW really don't understand what's happening.
Amity Park is a living city, but she only grew as much as she felt she needed to before she stopped. Ghosts are not her immune system, they are just neighbors from another Realm. People aren't "unnaturally connected" to her like a hivemind, they can just understand when she tells them to run or hide.
But the GIW don't understand this at all.
Then certain officials, ones who's job is to visit cities and check for unnatural growth like Amity's, hone in on another city.
The GIW are called in to investigate Gotham.
Gotham, alive like Amity but far more reclusive and private, Does Not Like This.
In two weeks, they get caught up in five rogue attacks. Their vehicles and equipment are frequently stolen or damaged and some of their sensors give false readings that will lead them in circles for hours. None of them see the Talons stalking them, but they definitely feel like they're being watched.
The whole city is belligerent all the way down to the café that refuses to serve them.
Gotham definitely has a hive mind like Amity Park (note: it does not). The Rogues and the Bats appeared around the same time, so they must be Gotham's immune system. Now they just need to find the portal and figure out a way to contain it so they can weaken Gotham enough to take out her protectors.....
If lazarus pits are sickly ectoplasm in this au, the GIW might actually be doing gotham a favor. Removing the pit would be like sterilizing the disaster bathroom leaking out raw sewage. Lady gotham gonna feel refreshed, then turn on those pesky agents with renewed vigor.
Also, Fawcett City is another good contender for the living city trope. (Las vegas is also canonically alive, iirc)
Government is panicking because that's officially an invasion of sentient cities. War must be declared. Bombs must be dropped. Collateral damaged be damned.
Meanwhile the justice league has members living in two of those cities, reporting that "this is normal," and jld squawking to anyone that will listen that sentient cities are actually quite common, quit being paranoid morons!
But amity park supernaturally tripled in size? Swelling is normal when fighting an infection. Did you try just... not attacking?
The giw are replicating the out-of-touch principal skinner meme. They cant possibly be in the wrong. Clearly they live in an SCP nightmare and it must be contained.
I also have a mighty need to point out that this au basically characterizes amity parkers like the freaking navi, perfectly in tune to and living symbiotically within their genius loci environment. (Same, but to a lesser extent, for gothamites and fawcetters.)
(I'd also like to point out that these three cities are about as polar opposite as possible. Gotham is a wretched hive, fawcett runs on cartoon logic (or just a really bad trip), and amity is the kind of alien that lands squarely between sci-fi and supernatural.)
Someone is sent to amity and gets in contact with phantom. Lo and behold, the city is just defending itself from both the giw and the more malevolent ghosts while also trying to burn off the sudden influx of energy from the realms without actually hurting anyone.
And why did the giw's report not include info about the fenton portal? That should have been on the front page! What do you mean you thought they contained it?! We barely introduced ourselves before they started bragging about it! How its their pride and joy, a culmination of nearly two decades of research went into building it!
You mean to tell us that you knew about the portal, knew about the ghosts coming through it, had even measured the influx of energy, and went, 'nah, must be the sentient city that's the problem.' ?!?!
And you know what? The giw double down. Because its hilarious and angsty and the single stupidest choice they can make, so obviously that's what has to happen.
The Justice League is side-eyeing phantom so hard, like 'kid, do you need help?' And danny is just, 'nah, i got it handled. Just get these morons outta my city and I'll clean up the rest.'
I want the fentons to be completely oblivious of the full ramifications of their actions, but entirely and (to outsiders) weirdly supportive of phantom (good reveal). They are absent-minded geniuses, with both the loyalty and attention span of a golden retriever. Which is to say that they are excessively friendly unless you make it painfully and explicitly obvious that you won't be friendly in return and are easily distracted by literally anything.
(It could even be a front, like brucie is for batman. They are fully aware and planning very explicit and meticulous revenge on the giw for targetting their boy and declaring that amity parkers are non-sentient because they've been overtaken by the hivemind or some other nonsense.)
Idea: Captain Marvel, Danny Phantom, and John Constantine team up to con the GIW into thinking their *own base of operations* is sentient, invasive, and *using them* to kill off benign, natural living cities & cannibalize their resources. Like a metastatized tumor.
And what the heck, maybe it *is*. The idiots probably collect a lot of alien/supernatural junk & store it improperly in their basement, thinking that as long as it's under lock and key, it's inert & safe to be around...
can we take a moment to appreciate that one of our characters like. genuinely can control blood + tears + poison etc., and he's done it before. graphically. a tad bit violently. like stranger things-level shit.
now i should be deeply sobered by the fact that the innocent 12yo from book 1 learned how to use blood magic in tartarus. instead the only thing i'm thinking about is how if percy figured it out like a year or two in advance, Kronos and his dumb 'my skin is invulnerable your stupid sword can't kill me' gag would have been so fucking cooked fried eaten up. like come on the potential. can you imagine kronos acting all cool and macho and then this random 14 year old skater just starts bloodbending the shit out of him
12 year old percy being an absolute savage is my favorite thing ever. i mean just look at him go. found out he was a demigod last week and he's already cussing out Zeus. became a national fugitive around 2 hours into his first quest, blew up a bus and a national monument a day later. improvised water magic with zero tutoring. just randomly defied the laws of magic by escaping the Lotus Casino in record time. found out he could breathe underwater completely on accident. Bribed literal Charon into letting him into the Underworld illegally by stacking drachmas on his counter true new yorker style. mailed medusa's decapitated head to the gods in a show of spite, and when they mailed it back in a "let's just pat the aggressive child on the head" kind of action it took him a grand total of 5 seconds to immediately go "omg i can finally MURDER my fucking STEPDAD!!!! :D". absolute lunatic that child was, we love him
I’m running 5 days behind, but it’s fine and totally worth it. I love such vibrant colors so much! This prompt was just… so much fun to dooo ;3 I really really really wanted to draw a iridescent holographic jacket, so I did! :D
Danny was having a great time, but not anymore. He went to an 80s party as Phantom and got himself captured.
Love that while online fandom in general is having a weird meltdown about the morality of enjoying anything darker than sanitized fluff in fiction, the Danny Phantom fandom is still sitting in the corner 16 years after the show ended with a blankie and cocoa and their 10,000th deep-fanon supertorture cannibalism vivisection psychological horror fic
Actually, I think it's important to know the Danny Phantom fandom did have a problem with what we would now call 'Antis', in 2007-2009. They were led by the owner and admin of a major fan forum, and her most frequent targets were anyone who shipped queer pairings. (This was primarily m/m fics, the trans!headcanons had yet to be a major thing and f/f and polyship fics were almost nonexistant.) She was at least casually supported in this cause by Butch Hartman, as she was also the admin for his official forums, and actively thought she was doing this to his wishes. (Likelyhood: 90%, BH is an ass. But I never saw proof he knew the extent she took it to.
The Phandom has survived in spite of all this, and Butch Hartman, and it's actively a part of why it still embraces all the 'darker' sides, because we learned.
Everyone who supported her left, after one too many arguments over it all.
Every time I see an anti-shipper, I raise my eyebrows. Because it didn't, with this woman, start with queer pairings - for her it started with adult/child pairings, and others. But it very quickly became -No, we can't let the kids ship Dash/Danny! We can't let them even *contemplate* Paulina/Sam! No, Danielle isn't trans, why would you think that?? We have to protect the kids, or else they'll think being queer is okay!
Modern Phandom will embrace your right to write anything you throw at them, because they've already seen where it ends - and they're here in spite of that.
For the record, my commentary above is the reason why that if you are a person who starts talking about 'problematic ships' and you're in my fandom spaces, I'm blocking you.
Especially if you find the 'ships' problematic but are A-okay with all levels of gore and violence towards the very same characters. Sure, Jan.
This started off as tags but, you know what? It's important to the Phandom as a whole because this is a problem with Phandom that we should look at critically.
(Under the cut for length)
First off, the above poster is absolutely right. From what I have seen in my deep dives of Phandom history, this is how the tru phan/anti phan war started.
This is why I am so sus of anyone who says "Oh I love my dissection but people who ship X are real freaks. News flash, we are all freaks! our favorite tag is dissection! I recently saw someone call Danielle x Valerie "pedophile adjacent" and my brother in christ, I was horrified. A two year age gap was being called that when five years previous, our biggest issue with the ship was what the hell to call it.
Don't do butch hartman's job for him. Full stop. As a phandom we are insulated against a lot of the newer waves of nonsense because we are so damn old. BUT as a phandom we should also stay alert for the nonsense coming in and practice good fandom practices such as identifying squicks and avoiding them. As well as YKINMKATO (kinktomato) also known as your kink is not my kink and that's okay
You don't like a ship? Awesome, blacklist it, don't make it a moral crusade. Yes this applies to all ships. (And I'm going to go there) EVEN ships like pomp pep. Because that's the one area I see consistently people allowing for just the most lukewarm takes. Not to mention I've seen SEVERAL people chased out of the phandom not even for drawing pomp pep but people drawing badger cereal (platonic) and people interpret as pomp pep and then send hate mail to the creators over.
This attitude sucks, and it has chased some amazing people out of our phandom.
And revolutionary thought, even if someone is engaging in a ship like pomp pep, it's okay. You don't have to like it, or even see it! Just move on and don't bully people over it.
Because consistently. Every year while doing the truce, I always get a few people who like ships that the Phandom has decided are problematic, and every year, I have had to do extensive deep dives into the blogs they get paired with to make sure they won't get attacked for their requests.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#prompts#De aged dan#de aged ellie#dad danny#mom danny#Fuck it make this a Hazmat Au too with a hint of eldritch Phantom form#Hence why no one realizes Danny Fenton & Phantom Dark are different people#No Danny is not ghost king he's just a little shit#Jazz is in Metropolis & Danny is around depending on where the “field trips” are#Sometimes he's in Gotham because Scarecrow or Ivy offers a lecture#Most of the time they're in Central though because it's safest for the baby villains in the making lol#Danny is taking classes for both medical stuff (thx Frostbite) and engineering#A couple of time travelling villains ADORE him and his kids lol#“So u a monsterfucker?” “What” “I mean I saw that ghost hero & I'm just sayin that's not human y'know-”#Tucker stop laughing at him#Tucker and Sam and Val are also in the same villain school but taking different classes#Save for Tucker also being in an engineering class#Sam is fighting for that Ivy internship#Val is in the specialized Anti-Hero course that focuses on teen heroes who are done with that bs#She got in by telling them (not lying) that she's going to take down a branch of government even if she has to blow the whole thing up#Evil College Au#Danny made a mistake & now everyone thinks that he Val Sam AND Tuck were in a relationship with Phantom at some point#Eveery other student now refers to them as the Petty Exes#memes#meme
Danny wants to go to medical school.But all of the normal medical schools kick him out because his parents are lunatics and also he's considered to be crazy and also he can't find any that offered how to take care of clown classes
Vlad tries to get Danny to go to evil college.And then he says no, the f*** man.That's literally evil college no.
But then the evil college says they'll accept him. Even though he didn't get his high school Diploma and also, they'll teach him how to take care of clones and various non-human sentiments species.
Danny wants to protect the people he loves. He wants to make sure his clone/alternate Future monster children are safe and healthy. He makes a point of not telling the other villain kids at evil college that he has family. He does not want them to know.
One of the ghosts decides to attack him. While he's at college and he uses his power to be in 2 places at once. So that Phantom can fight the ghost and he can fight Phantom fighting the ghost as a way of keeping covered.
The other students hear his banter with himself and think "mmm yes, they are divorced."
They also overhear a phone call between Danny and Vlad. Talking about the clone children, but they don't know that he's talking to Vlad. So they think he's talking to Phantom. And all the college students think. "Mmmm yes he is divorced "
He is required to go on field trips and participate in things. He does not like, so he has Phantom show up so that he can chase after Phantom. And the teachers can't be too mad about him. Doing that. Because that is in fact the thing that he needs to be doing because he is obviously an evil college student with a hero to fight. So obviously he needs to go fight the hero. But the hero is him.
The other evil college students also hate Phantom because he is interrupting their field trips and occasionally ruining their projects. They were supposed to endanger multiple innocent lives with their science project, but Phantom ruined it.
Danny has to ask his door mates to please not put up anti. Ghost wizard symbols on the wall. Because his children are part ghost and they would not be able to enter and exit his apartment. If all of the walls had anti ghost symbols on them. Not all of the evil college students are empathetic towards Danny's plates. Some of them are mean and decide to put up anti ghost symbols to inconvenience him on purpose.
This is fine.
It just gives him an excuse to put his menace. To society training to good use against the people who Made him run into a wall and look stupid.
Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly.
Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway.
And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time.
So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet.
And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair?
Jason is just chilling in a safe house at home when an ominous swirling green portal opens in the middle of his living room and several beings with giant eyeballs for heads pull a trussed up teen through.
Freaky eyeball: "Congratulations, revenant, you have been chosen to be the abom- I mean... the halfa's new guardian."
Jason: the fuck did he just call this kid?!
The eyeballs then promptly leave, the teen still trussed up in the middle of his living room. Jason unties the kid and sets about interrogating the kid because wtf. Jason finds out:
Kid's name is Danny
He's 15
He has no family or home to return to
He is a half ghost and has all the ghost powers that come with that.
Jason had an older brother once, his name was Danny, he was 15 when he died. Jason looks at Danny: black hair, blue eyes, simmering rage, gaunt corpse-like features. Yeah, this could work.
"Roy! I need a favor. I need you to hire someone to dig up my brother's coffin and transport it out of Gotham and, this is important, it needs to be super obvious until it's out of Gotham. Then Batman needs to lose all trace. Got it? Good. Okay kid, you need to turn invisible and stay invisible while I go steal a plane."
Cut to Batfam PoV, where Jason suddenly leaves town with no explanation, then the next day his older brother's corpse gets stolen ("Jason had an older brother?!") which Bruce fears is a sign their IDs have been compromised. They try to figure out what's going on but the corpse trail goes cold outside Gotham and Jason isn't answering any calls. He's all over Eurasia, fighting all kinds of people, even ending up in a few LoA bases. He finally stops at Nanda Parbat (to intro Danny to the remnants of the All Caste, but the batfam doesn't know that) before stealing yet another plane and heading back to Gotham.
"Hey everyone, this is my big brother Danny. No, we will not be taking questions at this time. C'mon, Danny, I'm exhausted, let's go home."
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.
Tim sat there for a moment, and sighed. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “You won the bet; we’ll need to pick him up.”
I’m imagining Danny calling his parents after getting cornered by more Waynes. He’s all like “look I’ve told y’all multiple times to leave me alone so you leave me no choice but to call in backup” and puts it on speaker phone.
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?”
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?!”
Danny: “-unless he’s shot at first. Now, I’ve had a long day of classes and I’m tired so I’m going to walk away. You’re going to let me.”
