I've Had A DC X DP Prompt/fic Idea And I'd Thought I'd Share.

Dan is Trigon

So! The Teen Titans had been chasing down a Cult lately, and they had finally managed to track down their main bases location.

Unfortunately, they got there just a bit too late and the Summoning Ritual they had been preforming was finished. The Being they had been calling crawled up and out of the Circle drawn in Blood on the floor.

And Raven felt her heart Stop. Because that Being crawling it's way out of the Summoning Circle looked almost exactly like her Father's True Form. But also different.

Where her Father's hair was a White Flame, this one's hair looked like Freshly Fallen Snow. Instead of her Father's Blood Red Skin, this being had Icy Blue Skin. And most strikingly, In place of her Father's Piercing Red Eyes, this being had Lazarus Green Eyes.

But even with all those changes, she could still the similarities in the Bone Structure, the shape of the Jaw, and most importantly the Untold Power radiating off of them.

Before they could react, the Being turned its attention to the Cultists.

"Who Dares Summon, the Ghost King?"

"We do, Out Lord Pariah Dark! We Beseech Thee, take this unclean world and tear it down! Cleanse the World of its Filth!"

"Oh Goddammit, not again." Said the Being, "Look, Pariah hasn't been in Power for Centuries. I, am Phantom. And I don't do the whole 'Destroy all Worlds' thing, you want your own constellation? I'm your guy. Otherwise? Bite it."

"Bu-But my Lord! We summoned you to-"

"Yeah how about no." Said the unimpressed God, "Here, let me send you guys Home. I'll give you guys some riches or something as compensation, but that's it."

And with that, the God snapped its fingers and the cultists disappeared.

"Now, who are you kids?" He turned to them.

Robin stepped forward, "We are the Teen Titans, and originally we came to stop them from Summoning you. Now, I honestly don't know what to do..."

"Oh, you guys are Heroes! That's interesting, I don't come across worlds with Heroes very often." Said the Ghost King, "The last one was the one with those Revengers or whatever they called themselves. The Spider Totem was fun to talk to, and Thor is always..."

As Phantom mumbled to himself, Raven stepped up. "King Phantom, I have a Question. Why do you resemble the true form or Trigon so closely? As his Daughter, I can recognize your similarities easily, and I was curious."

The King stopped dead.

"...daughter?"

"Oh, yes. Trigon is my father, though obviously I haven't talked to him recently." She explained.

"...that asshole." He said, "How could he not tell me I had a NIECE!?"

Wait what?

What if when Damian was younger say 5-6 or so he demanded a little brother. After his Mother refuses Damian in a moment of child like wonder asks the Lazarus Pits for a baby brother.

And the pits listen?? It Spits out baby Danny who is wondering why he’s a baby and where he is now.

Then a 10 year old Damian shows up at the Wayne’s with a half-dead toddler.

My favorite fics go something like

Jason: the Joker killed me, and you refuse to kill him! You should love me enough to do that!

Bruce: I can't kill! Batman can't kill!

Jason: If you don't, he'll kill again and again, and that's on you!

Tim w/ a gun, who formed an intense parasocial relationship with Robin and Batman as a small child, super smart, with zero adult supervision, about to explain the Joker isn't just "missing in action": well this is awkward

Storyboard

Please don't comment on this post

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools

Time Loop: Ghosts of the Present and Future

Reunion of Brothers

Defiled Memories

No Hospitals

Batman's Biggest Hater

Cryptid Rules

Take Back Your Minx

Survivor's Guilt

Hidden From The World

Morally Grey in a World of Black an White

Be Thou For The People

Too Close To The Sun

Stuck Here With Him

Revenge Party

Never Meet Your Heroes

Father's Son Sister's Brother

Everywhere But Home

Writing Prompts

Things

WIP Goal

My OCs

jason comes back to gotham as red hood and the batfam have no idea who he is or that he has anything to do with the league of assasins until during a wayne gala theres a hostage situation and before bruce or anyone can figure out a way to go suit up a crime lord appears and saves everybody only to have a publically friendly catch up session with.... damian wayne.

damian covers to the press afterwards that its because of red hoods 'i dont hurt kids' rule and that he'd met the guy a few times in crime alley before he was dumped on bruce's doorstep. gotham's citizens are slightly concerned but honestly? the scary stabby child that's been glaring at them from the corners of parties since he got here with absolutely no backstory or history in gotham turning out to have a past with crime alleys most infamous protector/crime boss? it's a little comforting.

it's less comforting to the bats.

damian, getting out the car after the gala: I don't know what hood was thinking, making me his public ally. he's lucky the simpletons of this city bought that, don't you agree father?

damian: *turns to see the rest of the family staring at him with hard eyes*

damian:

damian: ...what did i do?

everybody's less than pleased that damian withheld the info that red hood is trained and from the LOA, but damian simply maintains that they never asked. when further questioned about why his relationship with hood was so familial and about what his identity is... they get

damian: hood was perhaps my favourite tutor back home, the only one i didn't kill. he taught me many things, from how to poison somebody to famous quotes and sayings from classic literature.

bruce: what. is. his. name.

damian: you know what one of those sayings was? 'snitches get stitches'

dick: *slams his face into the wall*

tim: well you did want him to be more childlike.

they eventually have to move past it because damian won't budge, unfortunately jason is finding this whole scenario fucking hysterical because holy shit he'd thought about coming back and pissing off his family through their secret personas but he hadn't even considered the beauty of coming back and pissing them off through their public personas.

and from then on the entire batfamily has to deal with pretending to be nervous or wary every time the red hood comes and crashes their very real wayne public events. it's fucking incredible. jason can't believe that he was gonna try and beat the shit out of tim to freak out bruce when all he had to do was grab a glass of champagne, walk up to the dude, and ask politely how stocks at WE are doing. 'brucie wayne' has no fucking clue what to do, and jason just poured the champagne against his helmet and let it all fall to the ground and everybody's too scared to say anything.

nobody else bats an eye when red hood becomes an occasional presence at these fancy events, apart from the people who know for a fact they could be on his shitlist. mostly because this is gotham, but also because they know he's a crime lord so like... riches and business running wise he kinda fits the bill for these things anyway? and if the stoic kid of brucie wayne eases up around him then the whole 'i dont hurt kids' thing must ring true so it's not like he'll cause too much trouble. also the guards are too scared to tell him he's not allowed in, so there's that.

the bats hate everything about this. they don't even know what red hoods game is, they have no idea why they're being tortured and they're getting paranoid about it. damian's absolutely no help because he's just happy to 1. get to see his brother on a regular basis again, and 2. get to see his brother find a less self-destructive outlet for the pit rage he's watched jason struggle with for years.

it's also just really fun to watch tim accidentally fall asleep against a wall mid-gala, wake up to red hood's helmet 2 inches from his face, and then almost break his own hand trying to punch it because he forgot that he wasn't in-mask and had to hold back last second.

dick is mostly just indignant because every time red hood shows up and hangs around near damian, damian immediately becomes a picture perfect public persona, interacting with the elites of gotham with the same expertise of tim or bruce. he's so mad that a crime lord can wrangle HIS little brother in public but he can't, that he completely disregards the whole crime lord thing and starts bugging red hood both in and out of mask about how to be a better older brother to damian. at one point he corners red hood on a rooftop mid patrol.

nightwing: ok, seriously, when I asked damian not to be rude to the new investors he told a woman her coat looked like it would hold up in a fight against two-face, but when YOU ask he becomes a model citizen, what is UP with that?

red hood, being an asshole: *gasp* y-you're.... YOU'RE RICHARD GRAYSON?

nightwing:

nightwing: ....oh my god you didn't know?

red hood: no i fucking knew you're just an idiot. and damian listens to me because I'm the only tutor he could never kill and he knows i'll beat his ass with my magic swords.

nightwing:

red hood: and also im the only one at the league who played Just Dance with him so i get special privileges, like telling him what to do.

dick asks damian to play Just Dance with him that night and damian just looks at him all forlorn, like 'it wouldn't be the same without the exhilarating thrill of knowing if anybody catches us hood will be stabbed and thrown in the lazarus pit again as punishment for corrupting me... it was really an unfair punishment considering he replaced grandfather's bed with a plastic pool covered by a sheet once, and the only punishment he got for that was being banned from the family dinners for two weeks'

dick stares at him. damian just adds 'he used to sit outside the window like a dog. watching and occasionally yelling about the injustice. mother gave him a plate of roast potatoes through the window once. grandfather disapproved.'

nobody knows quite what to do about red hood becoming a gotham elite, but they are becoming more concerned about damian's family's dynamic every goddamn day.

Parent Group

Dpxdc Prompt #74

When Jazz Fenton moved to Gotham with her new son—formerly her teenage brother, not that anyone knew that—she decided to start up a parent group to have some people to vent to, and also perhaps be able to help other young parents along the way.

She did not expect Brucie Wayne to join the group, as a new father to a 9 year old boy from the circus.

incorrect quotes under the cut

all of these happen because bruce is calling jazz in a panic

bruce: jazz! how do i get dick to stop swinging from the chandeliers? jazz, currently trying to rock a baby!danny to sleep while on 2 hours of sleep herself: bribery

bruce: jazz! was it impulsive of me to adopt a kid that stole my tires? I don't think he likes me very much jazz, attempting to help kid!danny get his hand out of the wall as he is sick and his intagibility is being uncooperative: give him an alfred cookie, he'll warm up eventually

bruce: jazz! tim won't sleep, i think he might be developing a coffee addiction jazz, who just had to throw out all the coffee in her house because it got ecto-infected and is having withdrawls: him and me both really

bruce: jazz! a kid just showed up on my doorstep claiming to be my biological son, he called me short T-T jazz, who knows that danny is now taller than bruce as of his latest growthspurt: ...there there

Masterlist ✨✨✨

Start here! :

The Origin

The rest ! :

(X means unfinished)

(All of these are connected but can be read as stand alone)

Meeting the phantomily:

Crack meeting the batfam :

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part4 | Part 5 the final!

Hide @ dick’s apartment :

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part4 | Part 5 the final!!

You can’t bench me! :

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part4 | Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 the final!!

ice cream| intermission | bonus

The Batburger saga : X

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 the final!

Asks:

(Ask are always open!)

Fav DPxDC trope?

ships in the AU?

First hug?

What about other villains?

You might also like!:

Good goons!

Explosions!

Or commission me on Ko-fi!

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

DC x DP Prompt #7

The Dragon has Three Heads

After their High King was crowned, he was taken in by the Ancients. He was a child with continuously growing power forced to bear the weight of the Infinite Realms and in need of guidance, who better to advise him than the almighty Ancients themselves?

At first, none could decide on who would take their young king in. Not because he was unwanted, but because he was. The Ancients nearly sent the Realms to war with their myriad of reasons and excuses as to why they should be the only ones to take the ghost child in as their own.

In the end, the Ancients came to the agreement of split custody. They would all adopt their little king, but the consequences were dire and unprecedented. With so many powerful beings claiming an even more powerful being as their own child, their little one’s power increased to an all time high nearly breaking the mortal body he resided in.

Every being dead and alive could feel the birth of a new primordial being born. Primordials, beings even more powerful than Ancients, were an extinct species. Any who existed would eventually fade into their domains and lose their sentience for all of existence.

But the Ancients did not want this. They did not want this end for their child. They would not allow it.

Instead, they planned. They traveled different worlds and planets, spreading tales of the Great King Phantom. The epithets they gave him were grand and they would not leave until their work was finished. Their child would be revered, feared, and most importantly, he would be remembered and sentient and alive.

Belief is a powerful tool. Powerful enough to keep Gods immortal, and Primordials from fading. So long as the mortals believed the Primordials were still walking among them, their child would never die. He might not understand why he had to visit his worshippers every few years, but it is for his own good.

Then came two more. Not quite Primordials, but they were certainly on their way. The girl was made in their child’s own image, a mirror. The boy was their child but different. From the moment he appeared, he was no longer outside of time, but outside of space itself.

And with them, came the human female. She was a fierce warrior. Headstrong and bold and so very protective of their little ones. She too became theirs. She too became their child. Yet she was too mortal, too fragile. They could not let this stand.

So they spread tales and created myths. Anything to ascend their mortal daughter into godhood and keep their immortal children alive. So came the legend of the Dragon. The legend of their children.

The Dragon has three heads

Jasmine, their little dragon. Three heads, one for each of her siblings. One head for each mouth she had to feed. One head for each mouth she had to teach. One head for each mouth she had to protect. Three heads for the three children she had to raise as a mere child herself.

And like a dragon, she persevered. Like a dragon, she fought with passion and power and pride. With the strength and determination of a dragon because in truth, she is a dragon. Born by fire, kissed by fire, loved by fire. None could deny the dragon blood running through her veins.

One to be a murderer who will unleash death

Daniel, their little destroyer. He who creates destruction and chaos with every step he takes. He who embodies rage and despair, love and fury, grief and sorrow. His emotions high and potent when it comes to those he loves, as well as those he hates. Having lost everyone he held so dearly, it is not a wonder as to why he is so ruthless and possessive over the family he has now.

One to be a monarch whose crown will weigh heavy

Danyal, their little savior. The assassin prince destined to defeat the tyrant and rule them for all of eternity. The boy king destined to lead and protect them for all of eternity. The holy emperor destined to ensure peace and prosperity spread throughout the Infinite Realms for all of eternity. The perfect and omnipotent God meant to be praised and worshipped for all of eternity.

And One to be mad whose ideas will change history

Danielle, their little wanderer. She who broke free from the unknowing chains that shackled her. She who bent and molded reality, forcefully rewriting the ancient laws. She who bowed to no man, no ideal, no predestined fate as she roamed and reshaped worlds. The little princess would create what she wanted, transform what she wanted, change what she wanted and none could stop her. Not when she was evolution itself.

Riddler captures Tucker and forces him to compete in one of his evil gameshow stunts. But he keeps running into the problem that Tucker seems to have a bottomless supply of mobile devices to cheat with.

“Now… riddle me this! I’m full of holes but strong as steel. What am I?” The Riddler chuckled.

“A chain,” a young man in the corner said.

The Riddler nodded, pleased before he blinked and did a double take. “What the— give me that!” He snatched the phone out of the man’s hands, glaring at the screen where the riddle had been looked up.

He threw it to one of his goons and said, “Why didn’t you look carefully enough?! He still has his phone!”

“B-But boss!”

Riddler waved him away with a huff before he was back to stroking his chin in thought, leering at the shivering hostages he was able to capture. The camera was still rolling and he was in his element.

“Well, riddle me this! What word has kst in the middle, in the beginning, and at the end?”

“An inkstand.”

The Riddler nodded before once again, he did a double take. The same young man wearing a beanie was now looking at his Apple Watch.

“Why you—! Stop this!” The Riddler took away his watch and glared at him.

The young man pouted.

“No more cheating!” The Riddler said before he turned back towards the hostages, who were watching the two with confusion and bafflement.

The Riddler kept his eye on the young man, glaring at him. He made eye contact back, completely unabashed.

“I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I’m invisible, but you can call for me. What am I?”

The Riddler and the boy stared at each other. Then the latter looked away for a moment. The Riddler followed his gaze and when he turned back after seeing nothing, the young man had pulled another phone out of his shoe.

“An echo,” the man responded, as if he wasn’t cheating in front of him.

The Riddler gave a scream of rage.

In a very small apartment, Jazz debated between picking up the phone or not as she stared at the TV, conflicted as Tucker seemed to be handling it just fine, but he was still kidnapped and being televised…

“A tree!” Tucker said to another answer after pulling out an AI controlled tamagotchi.

The Riddler screamed again.

Jazz sighed. To call Danny or not to call, that was the question.