He's Helped The Little Girl, Who Was In A Coma Astral Projecting And Had Managed To Get Lost From The

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Post final battle, they're recovering. Al, instead of coming back to amestrias, ends up in Ra's Al Ghul's clutches. As he is obviously sickly, Ra's has him thrown into the Lazarus Pit, determined to train him and use him against the Bats and Birds of Gotham. 

Alphonse Elric has spent a significant amount of his life as a soul bound to a suit of Armour. His biological father was a living Philosopher's Stone. He performed human transmutation and saw the Gate of Truth. When he gets thrown into the Pit, he performs an instinctual transmutation that turns the chemical infused, magic revival juice into a Philosopher's Stone. 

While the League of Assassins is dumbfounded, Alphonse uses the imprints of knowledge he got from the pool before he transmuted it and leaves, trying to go to America and Gotham.

Meanwhile, Edward Elric is about to break a cosmic representation of knowledge for not giving his brother back.

Thanks

Danny turned the knob on the door to the old janitor closet and stepped out only to pause.

This was not his high-school. Instead he was in a fancy office of some kind with a bunch of blueprints on a desk. Oh well, his portal powers were new and still developing so when he realized he would be late for school even if he flew he decided to use his new ability and aim for a closet he knew the cleaning crew only used sparingly.

At least he partially succeeded. It was a cleaning closet, just not the cleaning closet. He knew he should hurry and at least try to get to school on time but he also knew that it would be a waste of effort, besides those blueprints looked pretty interesting.

It only took a moment before Danny spotted something wrong with the first blueprint and out of habit of correcting his own parents blueprints so they don't explode and whatnot, he grabbed a red pen and began correcting mistakes and leaving little notes and helpful suggestions. He even drew up blueprints for new parts to make the energy consumption for one blueprint design functional.

"Wha-how did you get in here?!"

Danny jolted, dropping the pen and papers as a tall man stood in the doorway,probably Mr. Fox if the nameplate on the desk was anything to go by. Danny made a quick excuse about Narnia needing him before ducking back into the closet and flying out and away with his ghost powers...only to find out he's in another dimension and Amity park doesn't exist here and not one but two weird rich people want to adopt him.

He wonders if this red Hood guy would protect him from the horrors of adoption if he asked nicely.

An explanation of inconsistent writing:

Someone close to me is undiagnosed bipolar and our household is suffering for the lack of accountability this has caused.

They have trauma associated with someone from their past who had it, but instead of trying to get ahead of it, they're so deep in denial that they are blaming everybody else for losing the car keys, when they find them the second they bother to look.

All of my goals have suffered from this. My free time is so full of anxiety that I can't write more than a handful of words at a time unless struck with inspiration.

To everyone following me on AO3, I'm sorry my updates and writing are so inconsistent. I'm doing my best.

You have been booped by this empty wrapping paper tube.

Reblog to boop all of your followers with it.

Yes, but he hid behind a mask. In a safer (or just less corrupt) city, he wouldn't need to hide his identity. Like Nancy Drew or Scooby-Doo.

In a safer city, Tim Drake would have been a teen detective. Like Kudo Shinichi (case closed), Nancy drew, boxcar children, or any of a dozen others.

Dick's grandfather is in the Court of Owls.

ic: @batfam-stuff-posts-0

based on this post :))

1 Vlad

2 Danny

3 Dan

4 Danni/Ellie

5????

Danny turned the knob on the door to the old janitor closet and stepped out only to pause.

This was not his high-school. Instead he was in a fancy office of some kind with a bunch of blueprints on a desk. Oh well, his portal powers were new and still developing so when he realized he would be late for school even if he flew he decided to use his new ability and aim for a closet he knew the cleaning crew only used sparingly.

At least he partially succeeded. It was a cleaning closet, just not the cleaning closet. He knew he should hurry and at least try to get to school on time but he also knew that it would be a waste of effort, besides those blueprints looked pretty interesting.

It only took a moment before Danny spotted something wrong with the first blueprint and out of habit of correcting his own parents blueprints so they don't explode and whatnot, he grabbed a red pen and began correcting mistakes and leaving little notes and helpful suggestions. He even drew up blueprints for new parts to make the energy consumption for one blueprint design functional.

"Wha-how did you get in here?!"

Danny jolted, dropping the pen and papers as a tall man stood in the doorway,probably Mr. Fox if the nameplate on the desk was anything to go by. Danny made a quick excuse about Narnia needing him before ducking back into the closet and flying out and away with his ghost powers...only to find out he's in another dimension and Amity park doesn't exist here and not one but two weird rich people want to adopt him.

He wonders if this red Hood guy would protect him from the horrors of adoption if he asked nicely.

After this, someone gets the idea to put the card on a lanyard. Whenever Danny is in an environment where he might get comfortable to sleep, or he hasn't slept in days, he can just throw it on. It's custom made with cartoon ghosts, tombstones, and zzz's.

Hearthcore needs a home. The Pit Rage was a consequence of being denied a home. Talia's manipulation made it worse. Bruce sets off the Pit Rage because paranoid and emotionally constipated. The manor being home and Bruce being himself send complicated signals to his instincts which, you know, sets him off.

Personally, I think it would be funny if, after this gets cleared up, Danny starts purring when he's comfortable around Jason. Maybe even just making ghost sounds that remind Jason of small animals calling for parents or packages.

I can just imagine, a Bat or Bird breaking in to find Jason and startling Danny so bad he makes scared baby ghost noises and Jason comes barreling into whatever room gun draw and eyes flashing, bundling Danny into a blanket as he points the gun at whoever had the absolute *gall* to scare the baby.

Jason's roommate is strange.

dp x dc promp

Jason Todd rented a small apartment, he has a roommate in it. This dude pays half a rent. But Jason almost never fucking sees him.

Danny is working strange shifts, was the explanation.

And one day Jason comes home and Danny sleeps at the kitchen table. Or at least Jason thought he was sleeping, but he was dead.

Then while Jason checked what could have happened, Danny opens his eyes says good day and walks away.

That happens around three times, and Danny at some point just started walking through the walls, since Jason knew something was off anyway, so no need for hiding his powers.

So Jason's roommate is Strange.

But Danny would say the exact same thing about his roommate. This Jason dude was really strange.

“Are you busy today?”

Danny looked up from his phone, where he’d been messaging Jazz. She’d been pestering him to be more social again. Damian had been getting progressively more twitchy recently and he couldn’t figure out why. So, he figured, why not?

“Not really,” he answered after weighing the pros and cons of his answer.

“Good,” he said. “You are coming to dinner with me.”

Danny blinked once. Twice. Damian didn’t change. He still stood, somewhat stiff and formal and agitated in front of him. “What?”

“I am bringing you to my family dinner. Tonight. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Danny wasted approximately thirty seconds of those five minutes staring in shock, before remembering that Damian could and would drag him out the door sans shoes if need be. He’d done it before. Given they went to school in Gotham, that had meant that Damian had carried him over his shoulder to his car and thrown an ugly purple pair of crocs at him before Damian had dropped him off at his study group. He bolted to his room to grab his wallet and a jacket, then slid into the kitchen to grab an ecto blob boba smoothie and a piece of meat.

Damian grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the fridge, sans meat. “Time’s up,” he said.

“But my snack-” Danny tried…

“You will be fed,” was snapped at him as they left their apartment. “If you must have a snack, I’m certain one of the heathens has left something in my car you may have.”

'Well, shit,' Danny thought. 'Guess I’m gonna need to have that meat for a midnight snack.'

_______

Danny sat at a dining room table full of rich people in their own house and wondered briefly how this had happened. Damian had dragged him into the house as if he thought the halfa would run away given half a chance. Which, he wasn’t exactly wrong, but still. He had refused to let go until he’d forcefully sat Danny down in a chair and introduced him to the room at large as “my roommate who refuses to feed himself properly and is trying to burn the building down by incorrectly using the toaster.” Which, rude.

"How do you do that?” the blonde, who he thinks was introduced as Brown, asked curiously.

"He puts raw meat in it,” Damian growls.

Everyone in the room turns to Danny at once.

“Why?” one of the two largest men, this one with a white streak, demanded. “Even I knew better as a kid, and I didn’t even have a toaster.”

Danny blinked at that before replying, “Well, the toaster at home was the only appliance that didn’t reanimate food. Ever. The oven was guaranteed to do so and the few times we had a working microwave it was Russian Roulette of the end result being animated, electrically charred, glow in the dark radioactive, or actually cooked through.”

“Oh my god, is that an actual reason?” someone whispered.

Damian just looked betrayed. “Why?”

“I did tell you, didn’t I? I’m pretty sure I told you,” Danny said confused. No realization dawned in Damian’s gaze. “My parents are ecto scientists? I know I changed my last name when I came out here, but I was pretty sure I told you about that.”

Damian’s eye twitched. “The crazed, zealot, mad scientist Fentons?”

Danny sunk into his chair with a sigh, resigned. “Yeah, them. After the Justice League took them in, I’m pretty sure they put my sister, friends, and I on some kind of potential rouges watchlist because of it. I’m just glad they managed to close the portal and confiscated all the weapons blueprints from them and the GIW.”

“They only took the weapons blueprints?” Richard asked.

Danny shrugged. “They took all of them, but the weapons were getting really dangerous. They kept upping the sensitivity so they targeted more and more liminals, ecto-contaminated people. I know how to make everything because I had to sabotage or fix everything so it wouldn’t target me.”

"Why would it target you?” Bruce asked, concerned.

Danny stared blankly at the man. “Do none of you follow the news? My lab accident was used as evidence of human experimentation at their trial. The whole house was an OSHA violation. The only reason their ecto levels were as low as they were is because they wore specialized hazmat suits twenty four-seven. That whole thing is why my sister and I changed our last name. So we could avoid,” he waved his hands around, “this.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat quietly brought the questions to a stop. Danny looked over at the man to give him a relieved smile, which grew truly grateful as the butler placed a plate of spaghetti in front of him.

Once everyone was served, Danny dug in. 'Damn,' he thought, 'steak cuts in spaghetti? Must be a rich people thing.'

With the butler, Alfred, if he remembered correctly, standing by the door, no one focused their questions on Danny, for which he was very grateful.It also took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that no one else’s spaghetti had steak cuts. In the meat. He carefully chewed the next bite of meat and sank down in his chair with an embarrassed groan.

“Is there a problem?” Damian asked, a smug, knowing glint in his eyes.

“I made a bet with my friends that I could last at least a semester without anyone figuring out this,” he gestured at the very delicious spaghetti. “I owe them phone numbers now. I don’t suppose you know where I can find Dr. Pamela Isely?”

“And who else’s number do you need?”

“Tim Drake, can I pass your number to my tech friend so he doesn’t remotely brick my electronics?”

A string of startled laughs erupted from the table at the question.

Danny needs a few...odd things. A few dietary and emotional requirements unique to his physiology. Meat is one of them.

But like, raw meat. He doesn't have to eat it often, maybe twice a month, but it does need to be completely raw.

He also needs to eat non-sentient blob ghosts, which are very different from sentient ones. Same amount, maybe twice a month.

He's weak to hot temperatures, where most humans require some sort of positive contact he needs to fight, if he gets too much sunlight his dopamine levels drop, and oddly enough as he got older milk or products with a lot of milk started to affect him like alcohol affects humans.

Now that he's made it to college, hiding most of these things is easy enough.

He chose Gotham, because of minimal sunny days and naturally cold weather. He regularly goes for walks at night, to fill his need for fighting. He says he has a milk allergy, and avoids milk products.

The blobs and the raw meat are a little uh. Those are a little hard.

He's taken to ducking into a bathroom stall to just swallow the blobs whole. But the meat...

He decides to sear the outside and leave the inside entirely raw. Does this detract from the nutrients by cooking them off? Yes. Does it mean he needs to eat raw meat four times a month instead of twice? Yes. Does it mostly hide that he's doing this in front of humans? Kind of.

Until he got a vegan roommate.

Said roommate is far too sharp-eyed for his own good, and now the guy is being weird.

Or: Damian's roommate is a meta who clearly has dietary restrictions outside the norm. It's fine; Damian understands that like animals in the wild, people have different diets. But the cuts of meat Fenton is eating are...subpar. Damian isn't sure how to be...civil, or appear polite, or not be a "snob" if he suggests Fenton allow him to procure farm fresh cuts of steak from cows raised in an open pasture and were well taken care of.