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Prompts - Blog Posts
I feel like we don’t talk enough about the potential of incest in apocalypse settings. No morals or taboos anymore, just the need to be close and lose themselves in one another??? Pls tell me you see the vision
somebody make me a book where the protagonist is a robot and it embarks on worldly adventures, risks everything, lives the thrill anyone would desire, saves many people, befriends a cute chick/dude and when all is supposed to be a happily ever after- it presses the self destruct button and kills itself and the ones it saved
Guys. Someone write/draw this with short-sighted Azirphale and our lovely dress wearing Crowley.
Or I may have to do it.
Picture this; #244
One poor unfortunate Bi is having their heart made a mess by a beautiful gent and a handsome lady and are not sure how to handle it.
However, in this case, said man and woman are actually both the same gender fluid person. Who is starting to think the other may need glasses.
I want to take prompts requests for stories it doesn’t have to be from this list, just in general as well. I’m open to doing Teen Wolf, Avengers or Harry Potter fics mainly because I know them best. I’m pretty flexible on ships from any of those fandoms. Though not Sciles or Stucky or Hinny. My favorite ships to write are Sterek, Steter, Stackson, Tony/Bucky, Stiles/Bucky, Stiles/Clint, Steo, Drarry, Snarry, and Lucius/Harry. But I’m fairly down to write anything. Just send me a message or an ask and I’ll probably be down for it.
Festive Prompt List
“Is that mistletoe?”
“Are you- are you pulling down mistletoe?”
“I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me to kiss you under the mistletoe and I will punch you”
“If I hear one more Mariah Carey song I will riot”
“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?”
“Hum one more note of that carol and I will stab you”
“My house, my rules. The Christmas music stays on”
“If you throw that snowball you’re declaring war”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m not going out in that snow storm!”
“I don’t care what you say, The Nightmare Before Christmas works for Christmas and Halloween”
“I can’t believe you did all this, for me”
“You don’t have to go to all this trouble, you know”
“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”
“You’d make a really terrible Santa”
“It’s a time of good will, not whatever the hell you’re doing”
“Aren’t you just Santa’s Little Helper?”
“You call this decorated?”
“How on earth did you get tinsel there?”
“Wow, you really go overboard with decorations, don’t you?”
“It looks like Santa threw up here”
“What are you doing to that poor wrapping paper?”
“Exactly how much more hinting do I have to do?”
“Have I told you how much I hate Christmas shopping?”
“Secret Santa is bullshit”
“Tell me what you want for Christmas”
“Why are you so impossible to shop for?”
“Can’t I just give you $20 and you can buy something for yourself?”
“Please tell me you aren’t searching my room for where I’ve hidden the presents”
“I thought we weren’t doing gifts!”
“I got you a Christmas sweater!”
“How many Christmas sweaters do you own?”
“You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not”
“One normal Christmas, that’s all I wanted”
“I’m sure what ever threat is out there can wait until after Christmas dinner”
“You invited how many people over for Christmas dinner??”
“You really can’t cook, can you?”
“Who the hell turned off the oven?!”
“This calls for eggnog”
“I can’t believe no one has spiked the eggnog yet”
“Just how much eggnog have you had?”
“I’m starting to regret having taught you about gluhwein”
“Oi! That’s my hot chocolate”
“Spam is not a suitable replacement for turkey”
“No offence meant, but I do not trust you to carve the turkey”
“I don’t care about anything else, the pudding is all that matters”
“Hey, binge eating at Christmas is totally justified!”
“You made gingerbread zombies?”
“Step away from the cookies.”
“Who ate all the advent calendar chocolates?!”
“Normally I’d say no, but I’m on my 14th candy cane, so why not?”
Purification
Sleep, when you think about it, is like a false death or a little death. Unconsciousness extends to hours of bliss or nightmares, leaving one ignorant and inert, unaware of where one is. The awakening is what breaks the said 'death', pulling one out of the depths of their own mind to throw them into the real world. For a moment or so, I often think about it, the lines must blur; life and death, slumber and consciousness, real and unreal. From this moment rises a new you, one who is slightly different, slightly renewed.
I always understood sleep in that manner. You wake up with a bruise you didn't have before, you wake up with a new pimple, you wake up with more hair on your pillow than yesterday, you wake up feeling more tired than you did when you went to bed, you wake up from a vivid dream of a life so much better than your reality, you spend the rest of the day trying to forget it. I think of waking up as a door to a new day. What you'll find in that new day is shown when your eyes open, its symptoms etched onto you. I've lived through life enough to expect some things from how waking up leaves me feeling.
The 'mark' left me confused. For a good 5 minutes, I sat and recalled what had happened that night. Was I with someone? Was I drunk?
Who was I kidding? I hadn't been drunk in forever. That line of thought is for people who have friends to go out with.
I was sober. I came home alone, had leftovers and went straight to bed. Nothing that explained a strange tattoo that looked like a cursive 'U' or 'V' could have happened. I tried wiping it off, washing it out; nothing worked. It stayed there, dark and crisp, a part of my skin. It didn't hurt or even have any visible redness around it, almost as if it had always been there. But I knew it hadn't.
I might have been able to get it off my mind if I had anything to do, but it was a day off. All the time in the world to think about it. But what was the point? I couldn't get to any conclusion anyway. How did it get there? Who did it? What was the purpose of it? All questions hung before me like carrots on a stick too high for me to grasp.
I ate cereal for breakfast, even though I told myself to make something nice for once. I stayed at the table for way too long, staring blankly at whatever my phone showed me, locked in a hypnotic stillness until the clock threatened with hours slipping out of my grasp. I heeded, moving around to go about the chores that I had perfect excuses to avoid throughout the week in a lethargic pace. And when my mind found no place to rest, it wandered down to the mark on my wrist.
I wondered what it could mean. Maybe if I had known, I would have thought of something to do. Although, even if I did, there was nothing I could do.
Clouds took over the sky right around noon, just when the clothes were done washing. The gloom must have taken over me as all I did for who knows how long was pace around the tiny apartment I reluctantly called home before ending up standing before the window, staring out. Grey, wistful swathes hung over the big city; city of the future, city of dreams— all those names and a single, cloudy day dwarfed it before its sombre glory.
The longer I watched those clouds, the more anxious I grew. For what reason, I couldn't tell. Nausea rose upon me, sweat threatening to spill through my skin but not doing so, paralysed in a state of limbo, just like the weather. My insides felt corrupt, leaving an intense drive to spill it out somehow, erase it, cleanse myself of it.
The houses around were quiet, the only sound in the neighbourhood being that of some vehicles passing by occasionally. For once, I lamented the quiet. I had always wished so desperately for it, cursing the kids for all their screaming, laughing, crying, shouting, stomping and playing around the neighbourhood. I was never a bitter person. I never hated children. But the quiet I got to enjoy on days like these was something precious, and anyone to break it made my blood boil. And now, for some reason, I found the quiet nerve-wracking.
The clock seemed to tick louder in the deathly silence, forcing me to do something about the wet laundry festering in the washing machine. Like a marionette, I got to work, hanging and laying the clothes on whatever surface provided the passage of air around them. The clothing rack wasn't sufficient. I would've made lunch, but the nausea made me stay out of the kitchen. I never liked to cook anyway, but takeout was slowly eating away at the peanuts I earned. Going out with colleagues was no better. Somehow, it always ended with me paying for everyone. Fastest way to end my appetite. I was never a miser but constantly ending up with empty pockets after every outing would make anyone resentful.
I couldn't see the Sunset. All around me were tall buildings blocking the Sun at its best hours. Sunset to me was a splash of greyish orange towards the west. Today, it was dull purple, the kind that makes your mouth twist in a snarl, almost like a large bruise or mold sprawling across the sky. It made me want to reach up and tear it down, and the thought alone made my fingertips tingle with disgust. The sight of that nasty shade slowly fading as the dark veil of night spread should have made me relieved, but it only made the sense of doom settle further into the cavity of my torso.
How deceptive time is, rushing forward with no mercy when it wishes and slowing to a suffocating halt when it wishes. I didn't realise when the day passed, but when my eyes landed by chance on the clock proudly counting down each last second of my life, I could only beg for it to speed up. I didn't want to suffer, I didn't want to die— at least not so soon. But death was sweeter than the agony I was put through for reasons I couldn't dare ask about.
It came to me all of a sudden but not at the same time. I expected something, something bad, for sure, when the mark on my wrist began to tickle under my skin. Not long after that, it itched and burned. I scratched and scratched and scratched until blood came trickling out around it, but the mark remained unharmed, pristine. I knew it was over for me then, when my nails, all bloody and full of dead skin, would simply glide over the warm, wet liquid coating my forearm.
My vision was blurry from tears, which obscured the figure that seemed to manifest in the middle of my living room. I kept scratching, growing positively desperate to get rid of the mark. It stayed, pitch black ink engraved into my flesh. I broke down and slid to the floor as the looming figure, cloaked in white and gold, approached. It probably had a head and a pair of arms, but it didn't use them to lift me off the floor. I kept my head hung, even as screams erupted from my throat; I didn't dare look up.
I didn't realise when the lights went out— or perhaps I had never turned them on the whole day— but it was dark. At least, it was supposed to be. Besides the lightning that shrieked between the blanket of clouds pouring down rain, there was a bright, off-white glow so strong it could blind me easily if I hadn't been staring at my arm the whole time. Even in mid-air, I was below the cruel deity that inflicted that pain on me. When the mark burned so hot it began glowing through the bloody mess I had made of it, I gave up, dropping my spent hand to my side.
Why was it doing this? What did it have to gain from me? Why did it choose me? I hoped my eyes conveyed those questions as I lifted them to gaze upon it. I fought the light through newfound tears only to see indifference in the fully black eyes, a void so vast yet tiny enough to be held within the walls of my home. There was no malice in those 'eyes', only an aloof responsibility. For me.
My ribs cracked under the invisible pressure, the rest of my insides flaring up— muscles turned magma and organs, lava. My throat had never felt so raw before as it did in that moment until it was silenced on its own. I pitied myself for the failed whistling sounds my broken throat made, although I didn't have to bear it for long as my ears started bleeding along with my nose and mouth. There was something coming out of me, besides all the blood that splattered all over, something invisible but so very tangible. A part of me— how big, I could not tell. The bright one ripped it out of me, separating the ugly from the ideal.
I understood. I didn't want this to happen, but I understood. The corruption, the impurities had to go, to be thrown out. A horrid night would result in renewal, in the perpetuation of a better, purer form. I may have accepted it in those final moments. The sky had quieted down after a great storm, creating space for me to lament the tantalising click of the second's hand and the sparse, shallow breaths that leaked out of my respiratory tract. I wanted to let it all go, to go unconscious into the gentle arms of sweet slumber. My eyes shifted around to take in the sight of home one last time.
Soon, I would be renewed, perfect. But the stains of those removed impurities would be carried by the place, by the clothes soaking in my blood, and that would be all that was left of the me that existed before the blurring of the lines. That was enough. If I closed my eyes, death was a certainty, but so was the awakening of a new me. A renewed me.
A/N: This is a little something I wrote for a monthly writing prompt, it being "A character wakes with a strange mark on their arm." Credit to @the-kingofdoritos for the prompt!
Omg I love that!!! So much especially since marvel could considered older for whatever reason (Demi god? Different growth rates? Being around since Justice society ?) but still being relatively young just
Teenage mom captain marvel !!!!
Prompt 95
Captain Marvel, new Den-Mother (despite the fact he himself is a child even if the league isn’t aware of that fact) for the Young Justice team blinks. Klarion, so-called chaos lord, blinks back in the middle of a spell.
He tilts his head. The other baby realms-being mirrors him. His own magic-fueled core pulses, and a chaos-core vibrates back. Oh. Ah. So that’s what’s happening.
“They can’t play right now,” he explains to the barely-younger ancient-in-training, ignoring the team’s incredulous looks at his words with the practice of someone who had to deal with the voices of gods all the time. And Batman’s narrowing eyes. Scary.
The chaos-core thrums in a distinct pouting-sensation, alongside a whine unique to young ghostlings. A whine that he replied with, even if only they could hear. Come play later, busy now, he insisted again, even if Klarion’s pouting was turning visible before it shifted to a scowl.
“Fiiine…” And then the chaosling was gone, his familiar with him. Billy really wished he could join in disappearing, seeing the info-hungry look in the others’ eyes.
TW: MEDWHUMP/MEDICAL LANGUAGE
Welcome to Medwhump May 2025! This challenge was a success last year so I'm back here again for round 2!
RULES:
No AI-generated content
For completionists, you must fill in a prompt for all 31 days, whether this is the daily prompt or one of the alt prompts. The timeframe for completion doesn't matter (i.e whether you fill all 31 prompts in one day, or take a few months)
If you'd like your work to be featured on this page, please tag this account, @medwhumpmay , and use the tag 'medwhumpmay2025'
When tagging, please use the appropriate whump tag e.g 'seizure whump' instead of just 'seizures'. This avoids clogging important tags with whump content.
Have fun!
If you need any clarification, please feel free to send in an ask or reply to this post and I'll do my best to get back to you.
Thanks to everybody who submitted their prompts, and please reblog for reach!
Happy whumping ❤️
- @whumpetywhumpwhump
TW: MEDWHUMP/MEDICAL LANGUAGE
Welcome to Medwhump May 2025! This challenge was a success last year so I'm back here again for round 2!
RULES:
No AI-generated content
For completionists, you must fill in a prompt for all 31 days, whether this is the daily prompt or one of the alt prompts. The timeframe for completion doesn't matter (i.e whether you fill all 31 prompts in one day, or take a few months)
If you'd like your work to be featured on this page, please tag this account, @medwhumpmay , and use the tag 'medwhumpmay2025'
When tagging, please use the appropriate whump tag e.g 'seizure whump' instead of just 'seizures'. This avoids clogging important tags with whump content.
Have fun!
If you need any clarification, please feel free to send in an ask or reply to this post and I'll do my best to get back to you.
Thanks to everybody who submitted their prompts, and please reblog for reach!
Happy whumping ❤️
- @whumpetywhumpwhump
unbothered character dialogue + prompts ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
@celestialwrites for more!!
♡ “breathing air that you contaminate deeply unsettles me.”
♡ constantly putting their feet on their superior’s desk/table.
♡ “please remind me why you are relevant.”
♡ always commenting at the worst moment possible.
♡ “life was far more peaceful when i thought you were dead.”
♡ when someone is yelling at them, the character pulls out a book and just starts reading.
♡ “i gave my last fuck two decades ago, you’re going to need a time machine to find it.”
♡ sees a dead body and just sighs, turns around and goes to the breakfast diner across the street.
♡ “if he opens his mouth again i’m calling the cops for a noise disturbance.”
♡ has one hobby that they get really prickly about if people interrupt or make fun of it.
♡ “when did you finally decide to be helpful?”
♡ sees another character having a panic attack and asks them to quiet down so they can finish their crossword puzzle.
♡ “maybe if you were as tall as your ego you would have seen it.”
♡ other characters having to remind them to either pretend to care or not speak at all during important meetings/situations.
♡ “i could bring the heavens crashing down, remember that the next time you interrupt my coffee break.”
♡ being the key part of the team’s plan but will continuously sleep in.
REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3
flirty or threatening? dialogue prompts
@celestialwrites for more!!
“good god, you are a pain.” “then why are you even here?” “maybe i’m a masochist.”
“say that again i dare you.” “what are you going to do about it if i do?”
“your existence unnerves me.” “aw, i’m flattered.”
“hi honey.” “don’t honey me, you just threw a book at me!”
“huh, you know when you’re not scowling at me your eyes look a little more blue than green.”
“what if one day you wandered off a cliff?” “would you join me?”
“sometimes i feel like you want to get hit.” “by you? most certainly.”
“miss me?” “i had wondered where my headache went.”
“you are certainly interesting.” “is that a compliment or are you making fun of me?” “yes.”
“i’m not docile by any means.” “i’ve noticed, i notice everything about you.”
“i need help to bury a body.” “and you thought of me? aw.” “actually, i’m the only one that would miss you if you went to prison.” “you’d miss me?”
“i hate you!” “as long as you feel something towards me.”
“watch it!” “it’s cute how easy i can rile you up.”
“do you truly hate me?” “i wish that was possible.”
REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3
five dialogue prompts for characters who have a hard time resting :)
"Don't sit up. You'll rip your stitches."
"You need to calm down. Your heart rate is spiking."
"Stop trying to get up. I don't want you fainting again."
"Lie back down, please. Your fever is too high for you to be moving around."
"I know we have to keep moving, but if we don't treat that wound now, it'll slow us down even more."
Whump Prompt #1304
@broken-lycan asked:
Hi I wanted to ask if you have prompts for emotional whump with two characters who saved each other's lives and are close friends? Perhaps with some injury caretaking like changing bandages or something like that? I really want to write something for two specific characters but am lacking ideas (even with whumptober coming up believe it or not) xD
Thanks in advance and I hope you have a good day! Your blog is such a good inspiration :D
Thank you for the kind words! So sorry this was pushed back due to my WT schedule, I hope you have a fun time!
I can give it a go:
"Why do you always do this?" / "Because you're always getting into trouble." - This could be seen in two ways: this could be the caretaker questioning why the whumpee gets into trouble, or the whumpee asking the caretaker why they always patch them up.
"I owe you one." / "You could start by not being so stupid."
"Is this the shirt I got you for your birthday?" / "Yeah... to be fair, I wasn't expecting [this injury] to happen."
"I can't believe you took that hit for me." / "It was your round the next time we're at the bar. Can't pass up that opportunity..."
"Does it hurt?" / "Not as much as my ego." / "[B], Be serious..." / "Of course it hurts, but it's easier to get it over with. I knew what I signed up for."
"I'll keep watch - don't argue - you're just gonna be stuck with me for a while." / "Wouldn't have it any other way."
"Would you sit still?" / "You sound like my mother." / "Hey, show [B's mothers name] some respect!" / "It disturbs me how close the two of you are." / "You don't call her enough. I'll be over for Christmas dinner."
"I should become a nurse with how much I have to do this. I get plenty of practice with you." / "Admit it, you'd miss patching me up." / "Let me get back to you on that one."
Whump Prompt #1306
Anon asked:
Do you have any collars and dehumanization prompts?
I have a couple:
“Hello, pet.”
The whumper removes any instance of the whumpees names/nicknames. They are just ‘pet’ (or whatever else the owner wants to call them.) They’re not even called ‘blue eyes’ or ‘blondie’ etc.
The collar is one of those barbed ones, or a loop leash that tightens if the whumpee strays too far.
Maybe they’re kept at the whumpers side - forever forced to crawl by them/sit on their haunches.
It takes a long time for them to learn the behaviour… and it'll take even longer for them to unlearn it when they’re rescued.
The whumpee could eventually turn feral - taking on characteristics of a pet.
Maybe the whumper has a ‘pack’ of pets - I can imagine the new addition being unwelcome/being forced to fight for their food.
They’re fed in a bowl on the floor.
If they’re good they’re given treats (small biscuits, scraps of meat etc)
Over time, they feel anxious if they don’t have a collar around their neck. At first it’s claustrophobic, but then they feel too exposed without it.
Injury Prompt #1031
Loss of consciousness
Injury Prompt #1025
whipped on the back
Injury Prompts #952
Needle to the neck
Injury Prompt #996
Chased while injured
Injury Prompt #1025
whipped on the back
Injury Prompt #1026
Strangled by a cord
Submitted by: @wild-selenite-caffine / x
I feel like those aren’t the only reasons why Tim is believed to be a vampire, but honestly it would be funnier if those were the reasons!
You know what I need more of? The Batkids completely fucking with the Justice League and their rogues and coming up with stories for their existence.
Like I am talking about the creation of demigods sort of stories, like Loki sort of stories.
Duke has convinced all of Gotham that he's the Bat Signal brought to life and that's why he's never seen at night and why the signal literally doesn't work during the day. He's waiting giddily for the story to spread outside of the city.
The batkids have convinced half the League that Nightwing is quite literally Batman's lovechild with Justice. Hey, Constantine had a one night stand with the manifestation of a city and they've dealt with gods before, so surely it's not that surprising? Right???
I need more of the Batkids being little shits, of Alfred the-greatest-enabler Pennyworth backing them up and Bat(the-biggest-troll)man to never confirm the stories, but he doesn't deny them either.
Go read the reblogs, there’s so many gems in there and I couldn’t pick a thread to share. ✨
The Viewers
Danny and Tucker move in together for college in Gotham
Tucker decided to make tiktoks just for fun, he could teach people about technology and help give tips.
He didn't realize that his viewers could see Danny in the background in some clips.
Danny being Danny was never caught doing something normal instead it was always something weird.
~
Tucker: "So you just switch this piece here-"
Danny in the background more than half his body in the fridge, the fridge is very noticeably growling
Tucker who is so used to it, it doesn't even register in his mind that it's not normal.
~
Tucker fan-boying about the new Wayne tech
His viewers looking behind him at Danny
Danny running around fighting his food which is also growling & flying
~
Tucker modifying his tech for the viewers
Danny's voice in the distance: "Bye Tuck, I need to go soup this guy real quick!"
Viewers: "Cannibalism?!"
~
Tucker: "Ah yes a very normal video!"
His viewers watching Danny:
~
Just an Idea
Prompt 112
Once again, you know who is underutilized in DCxDP crossovers? Battinson. Skrunkly shivering boi. Who we should definitely give children to care for.
Did you know that Jason canonically had a brother named Danny? Well you do now, and it should also be used more.
We all want to give Battinson a robin, so why not give him four for the price of two. He of course gets Dick from the circus- he’s never going to go into public again, this was the first time he’d gone to do something out of his comfort zone for a while and look how that turned out.
And on one of the nights that Dick has to stay home (Alfred insists he must finish his homework if he wants to go out on patrol) Bruce returns to the batmobile to find not one child, but two. Is Danny reincarnated? Just appeared one day? Who knows, but he’s here now and going to protect his little brother.
Bruce might have tears in his eyes when they both hit him in the kneecaps and bolt because even with the armor it still hurts. How he manages to grab both kids he’s not too sure, but he ends up getting them food after they put the tires back. He also doesn’t understand how he’s convinced them into the car but they’ve both conked out and maybe he’s panicking and needs Alfred-
D-Dick why is there another child here? He’s the neighbor, cool cool. W-what do you mean he’s home alone, he’s like, 4?? What do you mean he’s been alone for a week now???
…
Alfreeeeed-
Halloween prompts no. 7
Danny, after the portals blew due to him doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid, landing him in the dc universe. More specifically, Gotham.
Tim might have jumped about a foot in the air when that bright light came crashing down into the alley next to him. He might be super smart and independent for his age, but he was still a very curious eight year old wandering Gotham alone at night. He crept into the alley to peek at the glowing boy groaning in the fresh crater. Tim was surprised by the boys age, he looked about the same age as himself if not a bit younger (he's a year younger) and Tim was amazed he was a hero, he didn't think they started that young.
After coming to, Phantom introduced himself to Tim and was very excited to meet and potentially befriend a human who wasn't afraid of him. Phantom convinces Tim to become vigilantes (though Tim insisted on masks) with him and learns that he can bestow some of his power to other people through jewelry. Cujo appears somewhere along the way and Jason gets added to the group after he saw them transform and wanted in.
Batman nearly has a stroke because he thinks he may have caused this by letting Dick be Robin and influencing the kids. When he asked if they were metas or aliens Phantom opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Tim's alias blurting out, "Magical girls!" Because he was terrified Batman might try to exorcize Phantom or something.
This leads to the hilarious scenario where batman is doing research on "magical girls" and wondering why none of the three are-if fact-girls.
This is an unholy fusion between super frilly magical girls and Power Rangers so have fun.
Danny is not enjoying the homeless runaway lifestyle.
He would be the first to admit he was a bit of a cleanfreak, it was a side effect of growing up with mad scientist parents who would often place bottles of dangerous chemicals among bottles of fruit juice thier children had in the fridge. He grown into the habit of sorting through things as a means of survival.
Its not that he hated clutter, its that he hated mess and disorganization and feeling dirty. All of which he was feeling now.
So when Danny saw Brucie Wayne from the TV shop window of the dirty Gotham street he was on, he froze. This tall, dark haired blue eyed man was a jolly idiot. He was just like his dad. He had never seen anyone act like his dad before and he missed him so so much. And what do you know.. this guy collect black haired blue eyed kids like pokemon cards. And well...Danny was a child who had recently lost everything. His family, his friends, his home and desperately seeking out anything familiar.
So Danny starts following Bruce around trying to clean up after him and take care of him like he did with Jack Fenton in hopes of showing Bruce how useful he can be, but the amount of help Bruce needed was surprisingly low and what little he needed was swiftly taken care of by the butler and children he already had before Danny could even react.
Danny needed a new plan...