The Wayne Manor had survived assassins, alien invasions, Lazarus Pit incidents, demonic houseguests, and at least three separate “this is definitely the night I quit vigilantism forever” declarations from various members of the family.
What it had never survived gracefully was Danny.
Or rather, it had survived him in the same way a cathedral survives a cat: structurally intact, spiritually altered, and constantly aware it is being judged.
Danny Fenton had been hired as the Wayne family’s live-in butler under circumstances that could only be described as “Bruce Wayne had paperwork he didn’t read and Alfred had already resigned twice that week as a symbolic gesture.”
Danny arrived in a pressed black suit, a duffel bag, and the expression of someone who had already decided everyone in the house was going to disappoint him and he would still do his job flawlessly out of spite and professionalism.
Alfred liked him immediately.
Bruce tolerated him.
Everyone else developed opinions that ranged from “concerned fascination” to “this man is actively ruining my emotional stability with one eyebrow raise.”
Because Danny did not behave like a butler so much as a long-suffering stage actor trapped in a billionaire soap opera.
He polished the Batmobile with reverent precision while muttering things like, “Yes, Master Wayne, I’m sure this scratch came from your tragic brooding again, not your inability to park like a functional adult.”
He served dinner with surgical grace, sliding plates into place while adding softly, “If you’re going to eat like vultures, I can at least arrange a tasteful presentation of your chaos.”
And worst of all, he never, ever asked questions.
Which was the only reason Bruce hadn’t fired him on principle.
Because Danny’s eyes said he already knew everything anyway.
Jason Todd noticed first.
Jason had the survival instincts of a man who had died once and refused to be surprised by anything again. So when Danny handed him coffee after patrol and said, “Careful, it’s hot, unlike your personality,” Jason simply took the mug and said, “I like him.”
Dick Grayson tried to be friendly for approximately twelve minutes before Danny looked at him mid-story and said, “If you gesture any wider, you’re going to summon a circus you already escaped.”
Dick left the room laughing too hard to be offended.
Tim Drake tried to analyze him.
Danny responded by reorganizing Tim’s entire workstation without touching a single classified file, then saying, “Your paranoia is adorable. Like a raccoon guarding an empty trash can.”
Tim stopped trying to analyze him and started quietly respecting him instead.
Damian Wayne, for his part, declared Danny “insufferable” within the first hour and “useful” within the first week. This was, in Damian language, a love poem.
Danny called him “miniature grim aristocrat” once and survived only because Alfred was in the room.
Alfred Pennyworth adored him in a way that could only be described as “finally, someone else understands what it is like to be surrounded by children who could legally be considered national disasters.”
“You do realize,” Alfred said one evening, as Danny adjusted the tea tray for precisely the third time, “that you are not technically required to antagonize Master Bruce while also ensuring his survival.”
Danny didn’t look up. “And yet, here we are.”
“Indeed,” Alfred said, not displeased in the slightest.
Bruce Wayne, however, was less enchanted.
Batman had faced gods and monsters, but nothing quite prepared him for a butler who looked at him the way one might look at a particularly disappointing architectural choice.
Danny rarely spoke to Bruce directly without adding a layer of commentary that felt like a velvet-gloved insult.
“You’ve left blood on the staircase again,” Danny said one night.
“It’s not mine,” Bruce replied.
Danny nodded. “That’s worse, actually. Now I have to wonder which of your emotional support vigilantes is leaking.”
Bruce paused. “You are aware I could fire you.”
Danny finally looked at him, expression calm. “You are aware you would have to replace me.”
That was the end of that conversation.
But Bruce noticed something else.
Despite the sarcasm, despite the commentary, despite the constant implication that Bruce Wayne’s civilian persona was a performance so bad it should have been union-regulated… Danny never missed anything.
Injuries were treated before they were mentioned.
Equipment was repaired before it failed.
Patrol schedules were anticipated before they were decided.
Once, Bruce came back from a rooftop chase with a cracked rib he hadn’t admitted even to himself yet, and found Danny already in the kitchen with pain relief, bandages, and an expression that said, “Sit down before I become legally violent.”
“You’re not medical staff,” Bruce said.
Danny replied, “And yet I’m the only one in this building who treats you like a fragile idiot instead of a mythological symbol of suffering.”
Bruce sat down.
That was the pattern of the house.
Danny antagonized everyone, and in return, everyone quietly relied on him like gravity.
Then the universe decided the Wayne family deserved a reminder that stability was temporary.
The invasion began without warning.
The sky split like torn fabric over Gotham, a wound of red light and screaming wind. The alarms in the manor didn’t even finish their first cycle before the walls shook hard enough to rattle centuries-old glass.
Tim was already at monitors. Damian had weapons in hand. Jason was halfway out the door. Dick was swearing in three languages.
Bruce was Batman before anyone could ask him to be.
And Danny… Danny was still in the hallway, adjusting a tray that had tipped during the tremor.
Jason yelled, “We’re under attack by whatever cosmic nonsense this is, and you’re worried about tea?”
Danny didn’t look up. “I am worried about tea consistency. There is a difference.”
Then the world outside folded.
Something massive stepped through the breach in reality above Gotham, a silhouette of impossible geometry and crushing presence. The air itself seemed to bow.
Darkseid.
Even Batman stopped for half a second.
Which, in Batman terms, meant the situation had officially graduated to “catastrophic.”
The manor’s windows blew inward.
And Danny sighed.
A long, tired, deeply personal sigh.
“Of course,” he said. “It’s one of those days.”
Jason stared at him. “You cannot be serious right now.”
Danny finally set the tray down with care, straightened his cuffs, and looked toward the breach.
“I was having a perfectly tolerable morning,” he said. “And now we have apocalypse architecture. Honestly, I blame Bruce.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Bruce said immediately.
Danny gave him a look that could have stripped paint. “That is exactly what someone who did something would say.”
The air shifted again.
Reality trembled harder.
And then Danny stopped being just Danny.
The temperature dropped.
Light bent.
The manor filled with a pressure like the world holding its breath too long.
Green flame erupted around him, not consuming but revealing, like the universe finally remembering a truth it had been politely ignoring.
Where the butler stood a moment ago, there now hovered something older than Gotham’s fear.
The Ghost King’s presence was not loud.
It was absolute.
Danny Phantom rose fully into view, spectral crown-like energy hovering at his brow, eyes glowing with an endless, cold clarity.
Jason actually took a step back.
Damian did not.
Damian just said, very quietly, “You are a ghost.”
Danny glanced at him. “Yes. Try not to make it your whole personality.”
Then he moved.
Not fast like a human.
Fast like a correction to reality.
He stepped through the shattered window without breaking it further and rose into the storm above Gotham, where Darkseid’s presence pressed down like judgment.
Inside the manor, silence stretched.
Tim whispered, “Okay. That is new information.”
Bruce didn’t respond.
Because Bruce was already watching.
Outside, the air warped as Danny met the god-tyrant in open sky.
Darkseid spoke first, voice like collapsing planets.
“You are not on any list of opposition.”
Danny tilted his head. “That’s because I’m not an opposition. I’m a problem you didn’t study for.”
The fight did not look like a fight at first.
It looked like Danny refusing physics.
Omega beams fired.
They bent away.
Reality manipulation pressed in.
It slid off him like water off glass.
And then Danny moved again, and suddenly Darkseid was no longer the only overwhelming presence in the sky.
There was something older than conquest there.
Something that remembered making worlds before conquest ever existed.
Back inside the manor, Alfred spoke softly, almost reverently.
“I do believe,” he said, “we may have hired something rather exceptional.”
Jason muttered, “Yeah. You think?”
Bruce’s voice was low. “He’s been in my house this entire time.”
Tim replied, “To be fair, you let a demon clown decorate your basement.”
“That is not the point,” Bruce said.
Above Gotham, Danny finally stopped holding back.
The sky went silent in a way that felt like a verdict.
Darkseid faltered.
For the first time, something like uncertainty crossed the god’s face.
Danny drifted closer, expression tired now, almost gentle.
“You’ve been punching at a world that isn’t even your scale,” he said. “And I’ve been cleaning up after people who think your kind is mythology.”
Darkseid tried again.
It didn’t matter.
When it ended, it didn’t end explosively.
It ended like a star deciding it was done being a problem.
Silence returned to Gotham’s sky.
Danny hovered there a moment longer, then exhaled, like someone finishing a tedious chore.
Then he came back down.
He landed in the manor garden like nothing had happened.
(On Hiatus for the rest of the month while I work on other things)
Soon after Danny takes two of the failed clones into his body his parents let Vlad take him to a Gala in Gotham. When the Bats clock that he is pregnant they work to get him away from Vlad, find out how and why this happened to him, and fix it.
Danny is just relieved to finally have some adults on his side, and be able to relax and focus on himself and the babies.
Part 1 - Gala and discovery
Part 2 - confronting Vlad and calling The Guy
part 3 - Research and meeting Zatana
part 4 - Raiding Amity
part 5 - Jazz and Danny reunite
part 6 - Jazz's power point
part 7- Damian and Danny bond and Jason comes back
Part 8- Jason meets Jazz
Part 9- Jason meets Danny (finally)
Part 10- Danny calls his friends
Part 11- First date (part 1)
part 12- first date (part 2)
Part 13- Danny's doctors appointment
Part 14- Jason and Danny go camping
Part 15- Vlad crashes the party
Part 16- Frostbite comes to give various check ups
Part 17 - meeting the Justice League
Too many people very kindly asked to be tagged so I've made a master post people can subscribe to! I will reply to this post to inform anyone subscribed about new chapters. Thank you
>Danny had a problem. He thought he handled it well. He couldn't tell his civillian boyfriend of his half-dead status.
He definitely couldn't let him find out by being summoned by some culty wannabes who wanted to rule the world.
Easy solution: Volunteer to be the sacrifice, turn his eyes green, and act like a Royal prick and powerful being. Get rescued by one of Gothams 50 vigilantes. And claim no memory.
Boom, secret identity underwraps.
He didn't expect everyone to treat him so fragile after.
>
Damian also had a problem. That problem, being his civilian boyfriend, was obviously possessed by a spirit of the ghastly ghost king and was utterly clueless about it.
And it was all his fault.
Danny Fenton was the next June Moore/ Enchantress. Except he was hosting one of the most powerful beings in the universe.
Finding out about the cult’s plans to summon him was easy. They were quite public with their announcement. Tricking them to use him as a sacrifice (a young virgin?) was even easier. So here he was in the middle of a sigil with one of the cultists pointing a gun at his head to keep him still and another pointing a camera at him where the feed is live. Of course he’s acting the perfect confused victim with just the right about of scared and angry without making the robed people take physical action.
“Like seriously my guy, I think you could be so much more successful in a different profession,” he says to the man aiming a gun at his head. “I hear IT is a good way to go.”
He doesn’t respond, but then again none of them have from his taunts and questions.
The smirk on Danny’s face is more of a grimace and the glance he sends the camera is anxious. He isn’t even acting. He’s insanely nervous this wasn’t going to work. All of this to avoid telling his boyfriend that he’s half dead (and the general public, but he’s more worried about his personal relationship).
Being a Wayne, Damian is naturally suspicious and catches on quickly to things a little out of place. Danny didn’t have much of a choice. The cult was gonna preform the summoning regardless, it was all about how he spun it to prevent Damian from dumping him before he could snap his fingers. So here he was, tied to a chair in some random warehouse and- oh, they’ve started chanting. Fantastic.
He puts on an excellent show if he does say so himself with scared glances around himself and worried questions.
“What are you- what are you doing? That’s not gonna do anything. I didn’t take Latin but even I know this is-“
Then he promptly chokes as he feels the pull of the summoning. It only seems to spur them on as they see the effect it has on him.
“You- Something’s wrong. This feels weird,” he tells them, stumbling over words in the panic, trying to figure out what was happening.
They get louder.
“Stop. Stop it.”
His voice is weaker now, full of apprehension and just out of it.
It honestly feels surreal. The cult trying to pull him even though he’s already here. It’s like the kind of vertigo he feels going through time.
Danny’s eyes flash green and he shakes his head like he’s trying to physically shake it off. He can tell they are at the tail end of their chant when a wisp of cold air escapes his lips with a gasp.
By the time they’ve finished the summoning he’s completely changed his persona into the Royal King he’s been training to be.
He blinks open toxic green eyes with a straight face. Calm and regal in the face of a new situation he knows he has control over. Gone was the usual bubbly smile everyone sees and the panicked confusion of right now.
He wasn’t Danny anymore, he was Phantom. The slip was easy- practiced.
He doesn’t even glance at the ropes before using his intangibility to stand from the chair like they weren’t even there.
Tall and confident posture replaces the easy going, relaxed stance of Danny Fenton. He maybe not be physically wearing a crown, but it’s easy to see the position he holds without it.
Those captivating orbs skim over the stunned cultists, pausing momentarily at the camera where he tilts his head minutely in intrigue before moving on, finally stopping at the man who was clearly the leader with an emblem of green fire on his breast.
His voice echoes when he speaks.
“Why have you summoned me?”
Out comes a trembling response of world domination and other such nonsense.
“What do you have that I would want?” He questions cutting off the ramblings.
“…You would have the world, Your Majesty. All you have to do is take it. We brought you here so that you have the opportunity to do so.”
He walks the edge of the circle lazily, gazing around the decrepit building with leisure. He’s in no rush, in fact the slower the better.
“Explain to me why you think I would want your world.”
The people freeze, even more than they already were.
“Your Majesty?”
Danny waits, not acknowledging the question and finally stops in front of one of the people in robes. Under the hood he can see the sheer terror on their face as he gazes into their eyes. At the smell of urine he casually looks back at the leader expectantly.
“Why- why wouldn’t you want this world? All the souls you could have. The Justice you could deliver…”
He turns to continue walking around the circle, purposefully putting his back to the leader to show how little of a threat he thinks of them.
“Despite knowing my title, you forget who I am.”
The ground frosts over where he steps now, the shadows deepening and any kind of lights flicker.
“I am the ruler of the Infinite Realms. Every soul will eventually come to me. Time is no enemy to me. The deeds done here will receive justice for when those souls arrive at their destination. I am the mid-way. The in-between. The Balance. Why would I want your world when I already have so much more?”
He ends that question in front of the leader once more, looking down on him even though the man was several inches taller than him. The man actually cowers.
“You dare bring me to this plane when I have no purpose here? You think you have any power over the lives of your fellow humans? How pathetic.”
There is a beat and then shattering glass as Gotham’s vigilantes finally descend upon the cult, easily taking them down and tying them together.
Danny watches them back as they all assess the new threat keeping the poor civilian hostage. He tilts his head in contemplation.
“Balance keepers,” he acknowledges. “Interesting.”
They don’t even have to glance at each other for Nightwing to step forward, drawing his attention.
“You said you are the balance, didn’t you?”
Toxic eyes wander over them all slowly. Red Robin to the right, then Nightwing, Batman, and Robin at the left. For some reason the sword swinging vigilante looks especially murderous.
If he wasn’t in the middle of this he would be totally geeking out. Maybe when he’s Fenton again.
“Yes. I am many things. Balance is one.”
“Then you understand why you have to go back to your… realm and leave the kid here where he belongs.”
Danny frowns. ‘Kid’? He’s sixteen! Almost seventeen, he’s not a kid.
“Must I?” He challenges purely out of spite.
“Vacate him immediately, you-!”
“Robin!” Batman growls.
Danny knew the newest Robin could be aggressive (all the Robins had to be to survive), but he didn’t know just how much until right now.
Fine, it was time to wrap things up anyway.
Not wanting to provoke the vigilante anymore Danny doesn’t verbally respond, instead he walks calming back to the chair, letting the rope fall through to sit down like it’s a throne.
He can’t help but send them a small smirk that says he knows a secret they don’t know.
“Until next time, Balance Keepers.”
“Wait-“
Danny closes his eyes and slumps into the chair like cutting the strings off a marionette. He has enough experience with overshadowing to know what it looks like.
His eyes are blue again when he blinks them open.
He stares at the group in front of him in confusion, they all looked horrified for whatever reason, and then spots the pile of cultists groaning in the corner. He blanches.
“Are you kidding me? I missed the fight? How did I miss it?” He cries in outrage.
They don’t answer immediately and takes the awkward silence to look around at the broken windows and his surrounds.
“Are you okay? Can you stand?”
He thinks it might be Nightwing who asks but isn’t quite sure. He raises a brow.
“Of course I can’t stand, I’m tied to a-“
He looks down.
“Oh… uh, I don’t- I mean.” He clears his throat. “Sorry. Thanks for getting me out I guess.”
Clumsily, he stands and awkwardly pats himself down.
“Yep. I’m good. Totally okay. Can I get out of the creepy circle now, please?”
“Try,” Red Robin suggests. Danny notices how careful he is to not say any form of yes and promptly shrugs it off.
So Danny walks out of the sigil, stepping eagerly over the last line and looking back at the scene. Like a true teenager he pulls his phone out of his pocket that they didn’t confiscate and took a picture.
“Wild.”
“How do you feel?”
He turns back to Nightwing and finds them all looking at him. He tucks his phone away self-consciously.
“Uh, fine? I mean, I can take a punch,” he rubs his cheek where they first kidnapped him.
The vigilante’s lips thin and Danny thinks that wasn’t what he was asking about.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Well,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I was tied to the sacrifice chair and they started chanting- I really don’t think it was Latin if you ask me- and then, um, I blinked and you guys were here.”
Danny pauses for dramatic effect and opens his mouth in an O in false realization. He groans and covers his face with his hands.
“Oh my- are you telling me I passed out? I totally blacked out, didn’t I? Mother f- this is so embarrassing. I’m gonna die.”
“No you won’t,” Nightwing tries to reassure.
“Yes I will. I’m gonna go find a deep, dark hole to climb in and just die. What am I supposed to tell my boyfriend? Oh no, I can never show my face again.”
“Okay, he’s fine,” Red Robin brushes off as Danny sinks to the floor with head in his hands. “I’m going to go talk with the police.”
“The police?” Danny cries. “Grace Holland’s mom is on the force. The whole school will know by Tuesday! This is the worst.”
***
While Danny was giving a statement to the police Robin and Batman sat crouched upon the nearest roof.
“I’ll call Constantine,” the father states.
Damian clenches his fist.
“I should have walked him home. He wouldn’t be-“
He wouldn’t be possessed by the King of the Dead if Damian had just walked his boyfriend home. This was all his fault.
His father doesn’t even deny it.
“We’ll monitor him.”
“He doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t know.”
“Which is why we will keep an eye on him.”
That was their duty now. Damian’s responsibility since he couldn’t keep Danny safe to begin with. They’ll watch him, keep him close, and wait for any signs of the King surfacing. The being said he would see them again. He wasn’t gone, just bidding his time. Waiting. Watching.
It worked. It really worked. Danny managed to pull one over on them (and if that didn’t make him a big giddy at the time). That was the good news. The bad news?
He was very obviously being treated like glass. And not the standard, at home, “That’s Nana’s nice set, kids. Don’t touch them,” but fine china. The “lock it away where nothing could touch it,” kind. Honestly? Danny was getting a little tired of it. He loved his boyfriend, but this was a bit much.
It had been days of hovering, of unanswered questions, and having to act like he knew nothing of the situation. Of playing dumb and then playing hurt (not really playing) when Damian would rebuff his attempts at taking him on dates and instead insist he stay at the Wayne Manor for made-up reasons alluding to his safety.
It was time to go bull in a china shop.
Simple plans were sometimes the best and while he originally started out simple, trying to keep Damian and his family from finding out he was Phantom, he should have known it would snowball into something he did not want. A part of him wanted Damian to know he was Phantom, but now he couldn’t just straight out tell him.
So, simple plan. Something easy.
“Danny” would just have to become “Phantom the Ghost King”. Or his avatar. Easy peasy. (Or not.)
Amity Park would stay in a media blackout for as long as he wanted it to so there would be no way for Damian to discover than Phantom existed before all of this. He could keep this up forever. Maybe.
Danny should have just told him straight out.
He started by allowing his eyes flash green visibly in random emotional moments. Frustration, happiness, sadness, anything where there could be high emotions. At the dinner table, during family nights, in moments alone with his boyfriend. Each time, the family would freak and he would act confused.
“What?” He’d ask around a forkful of mashed potatoes, fork still partly in his mouth. Danny would be stared at, asked if he was okay, and he’d stare back and say, “Yeah? I’m fine. Why?” He wouldn’t get an answer. And wasn’t that frustrating too? He probably deserved it for what he’s done and is doing.
He’d be looked over and he would act (not acting) peeved and ask for answers.
Danny amped it up.
In the night, he would get out of bed and stand in the middle of the kitchen to be found unresponsive with his eyes glowing green. He’d be shaken a few times by whoever found him (them unknowingly to him sending out a distress signal to the rest of those in the house to come help and figure out what was going on) only for him to “blink” out of it in minutes and play confused as to why he wasn’t in bed.
Sleep walking became the excuse of Damian and his family.
Danny knew he was hiding that he was Phantom from them, but why were they trying to hide that he was “possessed”?
He caught Damian and Bruce speaking together in hushed tones about getting a “Constantine” to come take a look at him before they broke off their conversation when they noticed him all too soon. Damian immediately tried to distract him and Danny let him. He was keeping secrets and he was in no position to demand for theirs. Especially when he was deepening his own.
This kept up for days with him letting little things build up.
But there had to be a breaking point.
“Damian, what’s going on?” He confronted his boyfriend near the stairwell. Damian looked relaxed but there was a small tenseness around his eyes. They had been having a quiet evening. A seemingly good one. So Danny cornering him would have seemed to have come out of nowhere.
“What do you mean?”
Danny breathed out before taking a deep breath and letting his frustration show in his body language.
“You’re not stupid. I’m not stupid. What is going on? Ever since that cult you’ve all been acting different towards me. No one has been telling me what happened and I knew something was off so I was giving you all time, but I’m tired of it at this point!” He let his voice build up into a shout.
The rest of the family no doubt heard this and the nosier ones (all of them) would begin creeping their way closer to listen in.
“I gave you time and still you treat me as if I’m going to break! You’re treating me different and act as if I’m not allowed to have answers!”
“Danny-“ Damian tried to interrupt but Danny kept talking. He took a step closer, eyes lighting up green.
“Something happened and you refuse to tell me. You keep asking me what’s wrong and then when I ask why you act as if there was nothing that made you think that! It’s been weeks, Damian! I stayed here to make you happy because something made you think you need to bundle me up here, but it can’t last forever!”
He could see Bruce and Dick rounding the hallway atop the stairwell in his periphery. He could hear other footsteps in the kitchen, probably Alfred. Stephanie was creeping up from the downstairs living room with Barbara.
“We’ll explain,” Bruce broke in once he reached the top step of the stairs, hands held out placatingly. “Just calm down a moment, Danny.”
“Calm down?” Danny shrieked. He let his powers leak. The paintings on the walls and the chandelier above him began to rattle and he saw panic on the faces of his boyfriend’s family (if he would even want to stay his boyfriend after all of this.)
“I’ve been calm for weeks!” He pretended he didn’t hear or see some of the lights on the chandelier shatter and rain down around him.
“I’ve gotten no answers, even though I’ve asked!” Whispers started to enter his voice in an eerie echo. “But I let you keep hovering over me because I thought you were spooked because I was kidnapped but there has to be something more to it! You’re keeping something from me-“
Danny choked off his words and stumbled suddenly. Damian moved as if he were going to reach out and catch him. Before he could, frost started to creep across the floor towards him and held his feet in place (harmless, gentle). It stopped him from coming closer.
Again, Danny made a choked noise as the others in the room called out to him in surprise and fear.
“Something’s wrong,” he gasped out. He held up a shaky hand, watching with wide eyes (he’s a liar, such a liar) as white bled across his fingers starting from the tips. He made fearful eye contact (liar!) with Damian across from him. Damian whose eyes were wide and there was more fear on his face than he’d ever seen before (fear for him he didn’t deserve).
“What’s happening to me?” Danny whispered.
A bright flash lit up the room, momentarily blinding those around him and startling shouts from each.
When the light cleared and each could see again, they were not greeted by the sight of blue eyed Danny Fenton, normal human and boyfriend to Damian.
Instead, there stood a spirit with an almost perfect inverted visage of the teen, having stolen his face. White hair drifting in an unseen wind with a crown of ice floating above it, back straight and regal, dressed in ghostly royal regalia. Eyes an eerie Lazarus green.
“Well,” the King of the Dead smirked, for that’s the only one who this could be. “This is interesting.”
I am deeply enamored with the prompt where Danny gets mistaken for (or correctly identified as) some kind of pit creature—god, angel, demon, mermaid, eldritch problem, take your pick.
The rules are simple:
• Danny is a gremlin.
• Danny either has no idea who the hell keeps bathing in his pool, or
• He knows and is doing something specifically to be annoying.
Now consider this:
Danny discovers the Lazarus Pit.
Naturally, everyone else assumes he’s a creature of the Pit. A guardian. A god. A cursed spirit. A mermaid (he got the look). Danny does absolutely nothing to correct this.
But instead of the usual routes—destroying the League of Assassins, adopting Damian, picking a moral side—Danny just… starts chatting and continues to do so for centuries in their world.
Ra’s al Ghul becomes his pool buddy.
They talk while soaking in the Pit. Ra’s gives long, dramatic monologues about destiny, immortality, and the decay of the world. Danny listens politely, floating upside down, occasionally splashing, responding through some kind of ghostly translation magic that turns his very normal thoughts into something vaguely ominous and prophetic.
Ra’s: “The world must be cleansed to be reborn.”
Danny (meaning): “Yeah, stagnation sucks. You ever try bubble filters?”
Danny (translated): “All cycles end in rot, and rot demands renewal.”
Ra’s is thrilled.
Danny just thinks his pool buddy is neat.
Then one day Danny sees Ra’s with the Batfamily.
Danny, with complete sincerity, assumes this is Ra’s trying to invite his other friends to pool time.
So Danny tries to help.
He attempts to guide one of them into the Pit. It does not go well. There is screaming. There is grappling. There is Batman shouting about unknown entities and containment protocols.
Danny is confused. A little offended.
Still, every time he sees them after that, he tries again.
Not aggressively. Just:
• appearing out of the Pit like a horror movie mermaid,
“Enter the waters. The pool is warm. We are bonding.”
The Batfamily is convinced this is a recruitment ritual.
Ra’s is delighted.
Danny is just trying to get his friends to hang out.
——————-
POV: Ra’s al Ghul
In his first centuries, when Ra’s al Ghul was still learning what immortality cost, he met the creature.
Back then, the Lazarus Pit was wilder. Less refined. Less… tamed. Ra’s had only bathed a handful of times when, during one resurrection, the waters did not still.
They shifted.
Something surfaced with him.
Ra’s woke choking on life and madness, and found himself face to face with a being already awake, already watching him with mild curiosity—as if Ra’s were the strange thing in the pool.
The creature was young-looking, but not young. Luminous in the Pit’s glow, hair drifting like ink in water, eyes reflecting death without fear. It did not recoil from the Pit’s frenzy. It was not consumed by it.
It belonged.
Ra’s understood immediately: a child of the Pit, born from death repeated too many times.
The creature spoke.
Ra’s heard:
“You return too soon. The waters remember you.”
What it meant, in a voice filtered through strange translating magic:
“Wow, that was fast. You good, dude?”
Ra’s laughed. He could not help it.
From then on, Ra’s was never alone when he resurrected.
In those early centuries—before the League, before empires rose and fell beneath his feet—the creature would join him in the Pit. Sometimes already there, sometimes arriving halfway through Ra’s rebirth, as if checking on him.
It asked questions. Strange ones.
Why do you do this?
Does it hurt every time?
Do you ever take breaks?
The Pit twisted these into riddles and warnings. Ra’s heard prophecy. Doctrine. Judgment.
Ra’s answered honestly.
He spoke of saving the world, of cleansing corruption, of shepherding humanity forward. The creature listened, chin propped on its hands, occasionally nodding.
It responded with statements like:
“Endless renewal without rest fractures the soul.”
(which meant: “That sounds exhausting.”)
Ra’s took this as sacred counsel.
Centuries passed.
Ra’s refined the Pit. Controlled it. Built rituals, safeguards, entire philosophies around it. Through it all, the creature remained—unchanged, unaging, eternally informal.
Sometimes it vanished for decades. Sometimes centuries. But whenever Ra’s returned to the Pit, there it was again, greeting him like an old friend.
Back again?
—rendered by magic as—
“The cycle resumes.”
When Ra’s finally formed the League, he spoke of the guardian with reverence. He warned his followers not to disturb the waters unnecessarily. It was watched.
They obeyed.
Only much later—much later—did Ra’s bring outsiders to the Pit.
The bats.
——
Ra’s al Ghul has faced the Detective many times.
This encounter is no different: steel, smoke, accusations, inevitability. The Bat stands between Ra’s and the Pit, his allies fanned out behind him, tense and prepared. Ra’s is already calculating angles, exits, casualties.
Violence is imminent.
Then the waters of the Lazarus Pit ripple.
Ra’s freezes.
Slowly—deliberately—the guardian emerges.
Pale glow first. Then eyes. Then the familiar, impossible calm of a being that has watched Ra’s die and rise more times than any mortal ever should.
The Pit-spirit floats at the surface, blinking as it takes in the scene.
The bats.
The weapons.
Ra’s, poised to strike.
The creature tilts its head.
“Oh,” it says—though what Ra’s hears is something closer to:
“Conflict stains the waters before it begins.”
Ra’s does not move. He does not dare.
The bats, unfortunately, do.
One of them shifts, weapon raising half an inch.
The creature immediately misunderstands everything.
Its expression softens. Brightens. Recognition dawns.
“You brought friends?” it says, pleased.
Translated as: “The circle widens. New souls approach the threshold.”
Batman reacts instantly.
The creature reacts faster.
It glides closer to the edge of the Pit, extending a hand—not threatening, not aggressive, just inviting. Like one would gesture toward warm water on a cold night.
“Careful,” it says gently. “First time can be rough, but you’ll feel better after.”
Ra’s closes his eyes.
Of course this is happening.
Chaos erupts.
The bats scatter. Someone swears. Someone fires a grappling hook. The creature recoils, startled, nearly slipping back into the Pit.
I'm reading this and imagining a Danny who's still a vigilante but a seasoned one, who comes hang out with his pool buddy whenever things get a bit too hectic. Who has sometimes complained about the Ghost hunters or other Ghosts to Ra's (who due to translation errors thinks that they are one in the same and are just older than his Pit buddy.) Or talks fondly of his friends Sam and Tucker (who Ra's believes to be the Guardian's partners.) Just Ra's learning things about Danny and misinterpreting them due to mistranslation.
And at some point for whatever reason, whether bad reveal or the G.I.W get the jump on them, Danny gets really hurt, like missing an arm levels of bad. In this Ellie either destabilizes or is forced back into her core along with Dante, and desperate to protect them he takes them to his pool buddy to protect while he goes and deals with whatever is happening in his world, not exactly realizing what he looks like at the moment.
So instead of the usual tranquil looking dragon-mer (thinking eastern or sea serpent style) Ra's sees an absolutely feral and furious looking dragon who is missing an arm telling him to protect what looks like a pair of massive eggs before diving back into the Pit to teleport back to wherever its nest is to deal with whatever attacked.
Ra's staring at the eggs. Wondering what on earth the Pit creature (Danny) survives on now. Because the eggs make it clear that even though Ra's hasn't seen him age, they must age somehow.
He just got tasked with protecting these two eggs. And has no idea how to keep them alive. He doesn't even know if Danny's eggs are like crocodile eggs, and the embryo changes gender based on temperature.
And say Danny was so desperate to protect Ellie and Dante became their cores are cracked.
So not only does Ra's have no idea what to do. He has no idea if either egg is alive anymore. Cracks on eggs when they aren't hatching is extremely concerning after all.
(wrote this right before bed. If things are confusing that's why.)
For lack of better info to start, he rushes to build them the Most Supportive Nests of the Finest Stuffs, right there in the pool-chamber. And quadruples all security leading to it, locking the chamber itself down more thoroughly than ever seen by still-living minions/kin.
Then starts diving into ALL the centuries of bestiaries, trying to find Anything to narrow down similarities between these Apparent Eggs and. Any category of species ever. Anything. Birds? Reptiles? Amphibians? Platypi? AnYtHiNg, pls.
Given that they came from his Pit Buddy, he can guess that Lazarus Waters are Probably beneficial? But. Will they drown if he just. Nests them IN the Pit? Should he rig some kind of floating, supportively-suspending net to the shallows for them? Keep them always partially above water but rotate them so no spot gets too little? Should he be keeping the cracks above water or below it? Do they Need to breath air or Pit Water?
(I accidentally gave myself the mental image of heavy-but-exquisite netting attached to rings made of pool floaties or noodles. Like a floatie ring for toddlers but makeshift and silly.)
Ra's has had entire CENTURIES less collectively-stressful than that first week. Has never at any point been This Stressed in his LIFE.
Danny hadn’t suffered, no. But the man who took him away did.
John made sure of it.
The only reason he returned to the shit hole of a city that he used to call home was to steal police reports and camera footage, get a look at the man's face, cast a location spell, and hunt the fucker down.
When he found him, the idiot was crying. Crying as if he had lost someone.
John didn’t remember how he got the man to a broken-down garage by the docks, but sure enough, when he tuned back into reality, the man sat shaking and crying where he was tied down to a repurposed car creeper.
“Please— Please man, what the hell do you want—” he remembers the man begging. Did Danny beg? Or was he dead before he knew what was really happening?
He remembers stomping on the man’s face, the feel of his boot crunching into the man’s nose, pushing it to the side in an unnatural angle.
The man had let out a cry like a fucking baby. No, not like a baby. Danny’s cries had been loud, yes, but they had always drawn sympathy out of him. They were always followed by soft shushes and rhythmic back rubs.
No— he cried like a little bitch.
John doesn’t really remember what he did after that, but the next time his conscious mind checked in, the man was much bloodier.
“Do you even know why I’m doing this?” John had asked, standing over the man with a hammer in his hands.
The man — tears still falling down his ugly fucking face — shook his head weakly.
John snarled and brought the hammer down. Again and again, with Danny’s name spilling from his mouth.
When the hammer slipped out of his hands — flying behind him mid swing — he paused and took in the mangled mess below him.
He let out a shaky breath, wiping his hands off on his shirt, and pulling out his cigarette.
He told Danny he would try to quit when he got home.
---
Of course John didn’t go to the funeral.
His kid was already fucking dead, what good did it do to look at the corpse.
He couldn’t— He couldn’t look at Danny like that— Dead—
There was no point.
Of course John didn’t go back home. Nothing of value was there— Danny wasn’t there— He had everything he needed already packed up from the exorcism he had been on when— Danny died. Oh god his son is dead— When he had left for a week.
John... Can’t really make an excuse for cutting off everyone he knew and going on the run.
Logically, he knew it was stupid. A therapist would say some shit about ‘support systems’ and ‘leaning on others during times of grief’. Give him a break; his son died, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to feel better.
And if alcohol, drugs, and sex made him feel better, then so be it.
It helped him forget what he knew. Where he knew Danny was. Where he knew his son was.
So. Who needs an excuse. His son was in hell. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants.
---
John sat alone at the counter of some dingy bar in a town he couldn’t bother to name. The lights were low; the only real bright thing here being the bright neon signs that sat above the shelf of alcohol.
Snow fell softly outside, wrapping everything in a thin blanket of white. Christmas would be here soon, which is mainly the reason he was in here. He and Danny didn’t really celebrate Christmas. A day specifically made to buy things? Yeah, it had corporate scheme all over it. Not to mention, neither he nor Danny cared enough about the Roman Saturnalia nor Norse Yule to justify celebration. The lights always gave John a migraine and the smell of pine everywhere made Danny queasy.
Safe to say, John was more than irritated these past few weeks.
“Another dry whiskey,” he grumbled with a wave of his hand, pushing his empty glass away from him.
The bartender walked over with another glass, taking the one he had pushed aside.
“Tough day?” He asked, eyeing the eyebags and sour expression on John’s face.
John took a long sip of his drink, closing his eyes at the bitter taste. “Shut the fuck up.”
The bartender grunted, walking away and muttering something that sounded a lot like ‘asshole’ under his breath.
John kept his eyes closed, enjoying the burn in his throat and lack of painfully sweet memories. It was nice — peaceful — to listen to the chatter around the bar. There was someone on a date, or maybe the man had just bought here a drink. There was a group of old friends in a booth, catching up and talking about their days in high school. Across the bar from them, there was a group of young college kids, celebrating one of their friends finally asking out a hot girl. One of the kids got up, saying something about a song.
John took another sip of his whiskey. He wasn’t sure what number he was on yet; he wasn’t really trying to keep track. He probably should have been cut off by now, but he was paying, and the bartender didn’t seem to mind as long as the money kept coming. John was grateful for the dubious ethics.
RING
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, it’s me, what’s up baby?’
‘I’m sorry, listen, I’m gonna be late tonight. So don’t stay up and wait for me, okay?’
The rising sound of a guitar strummed from the jukebox, followed by the college kids cheering from their table. A series of ‘Woo!’ ‘Thanks man!’ overlapped with the annoying start to The Call by the Backstreet Boys.
John’s eye twitched. Danny fucking hated this song.
“Turn the fuckin’ song of’.” He gritted through his teeth with a raised voice from his seat at the counter.
The college kids quieted down, presumably staring at him.
“And who the hell are you?” The one at the jukebox snarked, scoffing as he walked back to his booth.
John stood up, following him as the song grated on his ears, “I said.” He grabbed the kid’s shoulder and flipped him around. “Turn the fuckin’ song off.”
A fist swung at his face and John woke up face down on his motel bed.
He groaned, the sound muddled by the stiff pillow. He was on top of the covers, his sweaty trenchcoat acting as a blanket. He felt the weight of his shoes on his feet and the pounding headache of a hangover.
He moved to get up but quickly decided against it. Everything hurt — his knuckles felt raw, and one of his eyes felt swollen. He could feel the bruises on his body sting at the mere thought of getting up. I’m defiantly banned from that bar, he thought as he settled on the stiff bed with a grunt.
He’d leave town tomorrow — no use staying if he couldn’t drink his thoughts away — but for now, he was going back to sleep.
---
It’s been two years since his son died and he dropped off the grid.
He’s gotten used to the grief — he’s accepted calling it grief. He’s in no way stable; he’ll admit that. That’s why he’s off the grid. He doesn’t trust himself doing serious work. The rest of Justice League Dark can manage without him, especially in the state he’s in.
Zatanna had found him once, about a year into his breakdown. She had told him to come back — to get help. He almost agreed — the thought of moving on was terrifying, but he knew that Danny would hate to see what he’d become — then she had told him that they needed help. He spat in her face and left. She didn’t come after him.
He lit a cigarette where he sat at the edge of the bed, not looking over at the vague shape of Danny that sat next to him. If he looked, it would vanish, but right now he could imagine that the boy was sitting next to him. They were on a vacation, or maybe a mission. Danny had been practicing his magic; he was a fast learner. Maybe John was taking him to his first exorcism. Danny would be sixteen this year, far older than Constantine when he started.
“Enjoying not being at school?” He mumbled to the air.
There was no response. Right, no one was here.
He looked over, the fuzzy image of a boy vanishing.
He took a drag of his cigarette. Right.
It was a few more moments of silence before John tensed a pulling sensation stinging in his chest. He dropped his cigarette, stomping it out on the now burnt carpet, and rushed into the bathroom.
He curled over the toilet and felt the shitty diner food rush up his throat and out his mouth. It burned on its way out, the stomach acid searing through the soft meat of his throat. His chest fucking hurt, and his throat fucking hurt, and his mouth tasted fucking nasty. He threw up again, much less exiting his body this time, but blurry tears left his eyes.
He slumped against the floor once he was done puking out his dinner. He sat there for a minute until the pain in his chest subsided.
After what was probably an hour on the floor, he stood up, walking to the tiny sink in the cramped bathroom.
He turned the water on, cupping it in his hands and bringing it to his mouth. He repeated the action a few times until the acidic taste was mostly out of his mouth. He downed some water and stood back up from where he was hunched over the sink.
He gripped the edge of it — staring in the mirror as the sound of the running water faded into white noise. This wasn’t the first time this happened. A sudden phantom feeling — a mockery of the calm reassuring tug he used to feel. This was the first time it hurt so much, and the feeling — while not as intense — wasn’t going away. Psychology was a bitch, he decided, pushing the feeling in his chest down as much as he could.
It pulled again, and with it John’s fist connected with the motel mirror, causing a large crack along the surface. He drew his hand back — the splintering glass in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the pain in his chest. The motel is going to charge me for that, he distantly thought as he moved back into the room to pack his briefcase.
I also never said I would stop at only one AU either!
This time it's for @elsa-fogen 's "Turned Human AU"! Again, amazing comic CHECK IT OUT
RadioSilence and a bit of RadioApple sorry -but not too much! Just Lucifer forgetting how to English when seeing Human!Alastor (to be fair, who wouldn't?)
And sorry for potential mistakes, English isn't my first language
Sooooo.
...Charlie may have fucked up.
Actually no. She fucked up. Bad.
Now don't get her wrong: Vaggi love her girlfriend. Adore her. She would burn both Heaven and Hell for her.
But even she can see that... yeah, Charlie fucked up on that one.
It started innocent enough; her girlfriend just wanted to use a spell that could turn the both of them into humans for a week. To understand them better, or so she said. So they could help them redeem themselves easier by knowing how living as a human feels like.
...Well. Vaggi always knew her girlfriend was creative. But she thought there wouldn't be any downside to try right?
Oh how wrong they both were.
She should have known something would go wrong when Charlie poured way too much magic for a simple spell after some failed attempts. But she just brushed it off and they both went to sleep.
...Only to be woken up by loud, extremely confused shouts of "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"
-Well, that was the main feeling they could get from this-
So they went down and...
Oh.
Welp. This was going to be fun to fix.
~0o0~
The day at started... fine enough.
As fine as it can get since Angel have left the hotel at least.
The bartender went (not without wobbling, but he chalked that up to the hangover. He hadn't been sober since... Well. Since the spider left) to get himself a drink -yeah it's six am, so what?- and gulped the first one in one go. Then he went to pour himself another one and-
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!"
Uh. Kinda sounded like Cherri Bomb... Wait.
He frowned. Put the glass down, and looked towarfs the sound of the voice to see...
Holy fucking shit is that a human?
Here? In Hell? How the fuck did THAT happened- wait.
"...Cherri?" he tried, which got the woman to turned around.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck it's actually Cherri Bomb.
And she's human.
What.
"Husk? she asked, frowning. Well, guess I'm not the only one stuck in THAT particular shitshow."
Wait what was she talking ab-
Oh goddamnit.
He looked down and- yep. No fur, no paws, just good ol' human hands. He put one of them behind him- no feathers. No tail.
...Well that explain the hard time walking around. He've been so used to walk with additional weight on his back and a tail for balance that now that those were... gone? (hopefully temporarly) it was like walking on a string.
"Well shit. he said. Didn't even noticed- you know what happened?"
"No clue! I just woke up like that!"
...Uh. Well that was weird.
"HUUUUUUSK"
The bartender turned and got a small missile hitting him on the stomache.
"Ow fuck! What the hell you- he blinked. ...Niffty?"
The small cyclop that he used to know was now a small red-haired woman in her usual attire (thanks Lucifer for THAT) and hairs covering one of her eyes.
"Hey- hey Niff. he tried to pat her back. You doing okay there?"
"Nooooo! she whined. Now I'm too big to clean under the furnitures!"
...Oh. Yeah of course. Always had weird priorities.
"Hey uh... It's going to be okay. I'm sure we're gonna be back to normal soon."
Well, as normal as it can get in this crazy hotel.
"Someone should probably go and get Charlie. Cherri said. Also where's Baxter?"
"I tried to get him, but he locked himself into his room! Niffty puffed. Giggling and... taking notes I think?"
"Riiiiight."
The guy was probably already wracking his brain to understand what caused this.
"Guys! I heard screaming! Is everything okaaaay?"
Well, speak of the devil (or his daughter) and he shall appear.
Charlie was running down the stairs and stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing them, followed closely by Vaggi.
"Hey Charlie! Have any idea what the FUCK is going on?"
Well Cherri was straight to the point... wait.
The princess and the fallen angel looked... really uncomfortable? Husker frowned.
"You did this shit?"
"W-Well! Definitely NOT on purpose! she tried with a nervous grin. I was just... trying to turn myself and Vaggi into humans to... you know, understand sinners better! But I kept trying, and trying, and trying, and I put all my magic here but it didn't work but-"
"Oh, au contraire my dear, I would say it worked way more than you could hope for!"
At the new voice, everyone looked up at the balcony to see...
"Alastor?!"
~0o0~
The moment he woke up he felt something was wrong.
His vision was blurrier than it was supposed to be- in Hell he only ever had needed a monocle because only one of his eye got to struggle.
But right now... Why, he hadn't such a poor vision since he was alive!
He got up carefully- no restrains, no sounds out of the ordinary, he was still in his bayou... but why on Earth (or rather in Hell) did he got that distinct feeling that something was deeply wrong with him?
...And then he looked down.
And despite all the blurriness, he could clearly see that his arm was... not pure black fading to a light brown- but just brown.
Like before
Alright, he needed to get his monocle, posthaste.
What he grabbed instead though, was his old pair of glasses. They were like back then too!
He carefully put them on, got up and looked at himself.
His human face glared back.
"...Well that certainly interesting." he mused, noticing that he -obviously- didn't had the radio effect on it like usual.
He grabbed his staff, and by curiosity called on his powers... nothing. Or almost-
His Shadow was still very much sentient. It waved at him, although weaker.
"Now what could possibly have happened hm...? he waved at his Shadow. Be a dear and check if I am the only one suffering from this... little inconvenience will you?"
The Shadow quickly disappeared, and came back and he used that time to get dressed up. Shaking its head, it grinned brightly.
Alright, so he wasn't alone in this predicament. There was that at least.
"Well then. Time to see if our dear princess or her father are responsible for this."
He was about to leave but then paused.
"Oh my, I almost forgot!"
He grinned brightly.
"Much better. Well then, on with the show!"
~0o0~
Holy fucking shit.
Now, don't get Cherri wrong. She's... kind of already taken...? In a relationship...? Long distance? Anyway, she was already into Pentious!
But damn, never in her afterlife she would have expected THE Radio Demon -the Overlord, Strongest Sinner in Hell yada yada...- to look so fucking good?
Hello?
The guy was just straight up hot as fuck that was unfair!
She could tell that everyone (well okay maybe not those exact thoughts...) were thinking the same thing.
Damn, Hell did him dirty!
Also his voice was kinda sexy without the radio filter- MOVING ON.
She looked around and... Yep, everyone was looking shocked.
Well at least there was one good thing coming out of this shithole- she'll have to try stealing a pic or two, she needed to remember this!
(Makes her wonder how Pentious looked like when he was alive... Damn it she miss him)
~0o0~
"Alastor?"
"Why yes, how lovely of you to recognize me in a heartbeat my dear." he grinned.
He had to fight to keep it on. Now he knew that they were mostly just surprised to see his human form, but he couldn't help tensing up.
They were all white people.
Old instincts kicked in, and he had to fight to look as nonchalent as usual.
He still owned Husker's and Niffty's souls, they wouldn't dare make a comment about his skin color surely. Charlie was too naive and optimistic and probably didn't know about this. Cherri Bomb... Might be a problem, depending on when she died.
He'll have to keep a close eye on her, just in case.
The Radio Demon -and he was, he still was the one that made all of Hell cower in fear when he pass by on the street!- made his way down with the same nonchalent attitude they knew him for.
"You sound different." said Vaggi.
He rolled his eyes.
"Why yes, you didn't believe I was speaking in radio static back when I was alive did you now?"
The fallen angel scoffed.
"Fair enough."
"Ah but enough of that. If I understood correctly, our dear princess is the reason of our current predicament isn't that correct?"
Charlie grimaced.
"Yeaaaah... I'm sorry! I just wanted to turned myself and Vaggi into humans, not all of you!"
"Well, can ya undo it?" the bartender gruffed.
"I can try...?"
And, to her credit, she did! Tried, and tried, and tried until she didn't had any magic left, and was being held up by her girlfriend.
"Maybe your dad can?" Cherri Bomb proposed.
"Oh yeah!"
So the princess called up her father, which of course immediatly teleported in the hall once he heard the "Dad I need you" in his dear daughter voice.
~0o0~
"Char-Char! What is it apple pie I'm here to-!"
Lucifer blinked. And looked again, and blinked.
"Wooooow uh... Okay, that's new. he frowned. What happened?"
"I... maaay have messed up a spell. she grinned awkwardly. I wanted to turned myself and Vaggi into humans to, you know, understand them better! So I can help them redeem themselves! But... it kind of backfired...? And now everyone's human again, but I can't fix it, and I tried, and I tried, and I-"
"Wow wow wow there! Charlie slow down, I got it. It's okay kiddo."
He gently patted her head.
"Eh, you should have seen it when I messed up my spells. Took my three brothers to fix it up that one time I turned the moon into cheese! at her face he chuckled. It's a long story."
"As fascinating as that is, we would appreciate if you could turn us back to what we were Your Majesty."
Oh great. The bellhop is- wait a minute.
There wasn't the static. Which... come to think of it, made sense.
(Why did his voice had to sound so good though? No fair!)
He turned around with a frown.
"Well I'll have you know that I didn't asked for your opinion Bam-"
He froze.
God fucking damn it why does he look so handsome?
Also uh. He actually had brown skin. Interesting... Shit his hairs look really fluffy. He kinda want to pet it- but he know better than to try, the psycho would most definitely bite his hand off!
Wait shit he stopped in his sentence didn't he? Considering the raised eyebrow and the grin -of course he was smiling even when he wasn't a deer- Alastor was waiting for the rest of it.
"A-Anyway! Yeah didn't asked for your opinion bellhop! he scoffed. But to answer your question, no I can't."
"What, why?"
"Ducky, spells have magic signatures. he ruffled her hairs (take THAT Alastor!). Meaning that only the caster of it can undo it. Think of it like a lock and key. Only one key for one lock."
"But I already tried, and it didn't work! What can I do?"
"Hold on babe. Do you remember what your spell thing was? It was supposed to turned into humans for one week. So..."
"So if we wait one week, you think everything will be back to normal?"
"Beats you dropping dead of exhaustion by trying over and over to fix it." Maggie shrugged.
A silence fell, before Alastor hummed.
"And... do you believe that little spell of yours only affects us, or...?"
Lucifer frowned at the implications, and Charlie paled.
"You think-?"
"One way to find out." the bartender said -that was the bartender right? He had the same gruffy voice- and turned on the TV.
...Yup.
The reporters on the news were humans. And freaking about it too.
This just in: An emergency meeting have been called upon by Carmilla Carmine to all the Overlords about the present situation. More on the meeting on tonight's broadcast-
"Well then! It seems I must bit you all goodbye." the Radio Demon was already leaving.
"You gonna share the info with the class Bambi?" he frowned.
"Why of course! It wouldn't do to have all of Hell panicking over something that by all means should be temporary, correct?"
"Good point... And tell them I'm sorry!" his precious daughter yelled just before Alastor went out the door.
Dead silence followed.
"...So who's up for pancakes?"
~0o0~
How dearly does he miss his shadow teleportation.
Now, he can see that everyone is panicking. Running around like headless chickens as a matter of fact- paying no mind to him at all, which as of right now was quite the relief.
Just look in control. None of these idiots would be stupid enough to pick a fight with you once they recognize you.
Just in case, he passed by Rosie's place first. She of course, knew how he looked like, so she wasn't surprised to see him. And despite him managing to break their deal, they were still cordial around each other.
She gladly accepted to go to the meeting together, and so they went. Discussing about how things were in Cannibal Town; apparently everyone was losing its mind over the access to human meat again (hey demonic meat was different okay? It had a more... sour and spicy flavor to it.) and killing left, right and center. When it wasn't killing, it was amputations -consenting ones of course!- and pretty much everyone was in a frenzy.
"My, it certainly looks like you have your work cut for you my dear!" he chuckled.
"Oh, don't remind me! I was never that busy since the whole Kowari tribe! Hm?"
"OUT OF MY WAY! Important people walking here!"
Alastor let out an annoyed hiss at the contact, before noticing who exactly had just pushed him so rudely.
"Oh Alastor sweetie, are you alright?"
"That was Vox wasn't it?"
His eyes turned pink.
"...That was Vox."
"Oh, you're alright!"
Well at least Rosie had her priorities straight.
So, Vox was no longer a flat screen. How sad.
What would happen if he beheaded him in this form he wondered...?
"Alastor? We're going to be late."
He grinned.
"Right behind you my dear."
~0o0~
They sat down just in time for the start of the meeting. Carmilla took a deep breath, and started to speak.
"Fellow Overlords, we are all today because of the recent turn of events. All of Hell is in a panic. Souls are running wild, and it is our duty to keep the peace as much as possible."
"Yeah yeah, we all know why we're here. You don't have to spell it out."
Hm, if the disinterested expression and the phone were any indications, then this was most likely Velvette. Alastor took note.
He recognized Vox of course -the fool looks like he wanted to be anywhere but here. How ironic considering how rushed he was.
And next to him was Valentino. He would recognize those ugly glasses everywhere.
Next up... Hm. That man in the back... oh.
Well, his mustache reminded him of Zestial quite a bit. But oddly enough he imagined him to be quite older.
It looked like Vox was the oldest in the room, how... odd.
And then-
"Ah! You look even older as a woman!"
Of course, Velvette couldn't stop provoking.
"And you must have messed up, daycare is two floors below! she spat. Someone younger than thirty shouldn't be an Overlord!"
What was that?
"Excuse me?" he frowned, glaring at Carmilla (he could feel Rosie do the same, although she was smiling.)
Funnily enough, Carmilla looked quite confused at first. So he tapped his staff just in case. And-
"...Alastor?"
"At last, my dear! he made a fake bow. Why, I would think you never recognized me at this rate."
...Uh. Why did everyone went silent?
"Holy fucking shit, Al?!"
At the voice, he sighed.
"I believe we already established that fact yes, Vincent." he turned to face the former TV.
~0o0~
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
Now don't get Vox wrong, he always found Alastor attractive. Besides, the guy had an aura- which often made people run for the hills when they see him.
But THIS?
Holy sweet baby Jesus this was another level!
He could see from the corner of his eyes Velvette snapping a few pictures -very fair honestly. He'll have to ask her to save him some.
Even VAL was speechless, and that was saying something! He hadn't been surprised when he saw Angel's human form!
Despite being dark skin he's pulling that off better than anyone else he ever saw!
...But also what was that about being below thirty? Fuck he feel like a creep now.
Oh wait. He could see Velvette whispering to him. Maybe she could convince him to pose for a few pictures.
~0o0~
Pictures?
Alastor blinked, a bit confused about Velvette's... proposition.
"Oh come on! It'll be fun. See, I'm gonna post the picture, and asking people to guess which Overlord this is. she grinned. It's going to be hilarious! No way in hell people will guess you. You look too hot for that!"
...Hm.
"Well, why not. he grinned. We all are powerless as of now, so might get some entertainment out of this."
"Now you're talking!"
He generously let her fix his clothes (her words. She just unbuttoned some of his jacket's buttons, and took away his staff -which would have been a dead giveaway.) and smiled for the camera.
She took two of those, and he had fun with the second one he'll admit. He couldn't let it be too easy now!
After that, he turned back to Carmilla.
"Now now my dear. I have the informations about our... current predicament."
"You do?"
"Why yes. You see, our dear princess tried a spell to turn herself and her little girlfriend into humans, to "see what it's like". Unfortunately, it failed... or rather, it backfired."
"So the little bimbo princesa is responsible for this?!"
Alastor shot Valentino a dirty grin.
"It was an honest mistake. Contrary to some people here, she didn't try to take over Heaven."
That made Vox shrink to look as small as possible, and Valentino tisked.
Zestial quickly ended the argument before it could broke out.
"So... Is she able to turn us back?"
"Unfortunately, no. She tried for a good while, without avail. But, her spell was made to be temporary. In a week of time, it should have dissipated."
"I see. Now then, we must pass the message to the rest of Hell."
"On it."
Velvette was already taping on her phone.
"I will also created some broadcasts about it." the Radio Demon waved his hand.
"...We'll make sure to pass the news." Vox looked like he bit a lemon.
"Very well. This meeting is over!"
Before they left, Velvette went to him.
"Time for the big reveal! Ready to see Hell losing its fucking shit?"
"Why that sound quite amusing. Here, allow me to help them believe it."
He grinned, and summoned his Shadow. That earned a raised eyebrow from the other Overlord, but she took the picture, and posted it.
"Now, we wait." she giggled.
It took less than a minute. Curiously, Alastor looked over her shoulder, and couldn't help himself- he laughed.
Okay, it was quite entertaining to see demons losing their minds everywhere (although SOME messages made him grimace) about how he actually looked like.
No one commented on his skin color. Nobody was being a racist douchebag...
Which... actually made sense. Velvette was even more dark skin than he was, and those were the ones that followed her. So he supposed it was to be expected. Still, it made him feel a bit better.
"Why, that is quite entertaining indeed! he chuckled. However I'm afraid I cannot stay long. I have broadcasts to share! We will see each other again next week my dear."
"Sure thing! Sounds fun!"
He came back to the hotel with his everlasting grin on his face- except that this time it was a bit more geniune than when he left.
Even big scary ghosts need affection and emotional support.
[Image ID: A digital drawing of Danny Fenton in a hoodie looking murderous while gently cradling the face of a monstrous Phantom with one hand. Phantom's body is black and shadow-like with glowing neon green ribs, palms, eyes, mouth, ghostly tail and fire for hair. Phantom has four hands, three of which he is using to hold onto Danny, and the fourth hovers reverently over the human hand cradling his face. /. End ID]
Doe Love [FINISHED] :
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15.
Freaky Friday In Hell [FINISHED] :
Oneshot.
Hell's Sweetest Angel [FINISHED?] :
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. to be continued?
My Love, My Greatest Weakness [FINISHED] :
Oneshot.
My Little Soldier (ALASTOR X READER X LUCIFER)[ONGOING] :
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, to be continued.
5 Times the Trouble [FINISHED] :
Oneshot.
Unique or well-executed tropes, all platonic edition! Just because I feel like it.
COMPLETED
City Pigeons Bleed Green by PaperPuffin
Danny is Bruce Wayne's clone. He's discovered by the Bats, who promptly adopt him. Lots of angst and trauma, skittish Danny, very sweet. 20/20 chapters
Ghosts, Legacies, and CPS by Ace_of_Roses & Karnia_Queen
Vlad calls CPS on Danny. To avoid being placed into Vlad's custody, he goes to a distant biological relative for help - Tim Drake. This one is literally so good. Lots of identity shenanigans. 6/6 chapters
Grave Promises by Blueseabird2
Dick Grayson was trapped in the Ghost Zone years ago and taught newly-Phantom Danny how to be a vigilante. After a reveal gone wrong, Danny seeks out Dick "years" later for help. 11/11 chapters
Like Facing Off Against C'Thulu, but it's Really Just your Fears by nerdpoe
Emotionally devasating. Dick is vivisected by the Fentons and Danny rescues him. The Bats rescue Danny in turn. One of my all-time favorites that you must read. 4/4 chapters
TWINcognito Mode by nerdpoe
Another one of my absolutely favorites. Nerdpoe, you get me. Danny is Tim Drake's clone, and they decide to be twins (and mess with the rest of the family in the process). 6/6 chapters
The Bat Trap by Threee
The Parent Trap, but with the demon twins who don't know they're twins. This one is such a journey. 33/33 chapters
ACTIVELY IN PROGRESS
Corrupted Respawning by CosmicDustPoltergeist
Another "Danny is Tim's clone" masterpiece. Danny is more of a chill guy than a weapon, so the Batfamily decides to adopt him. 14/?
Baby, I Basked in the Violence by Garden_Haunter
Utterly traumatized post-capture/vivisection baby Danny who finds refuge with the Bats. 17/?
those who serve. by aryelee
Reread this one a dozen times. Alfred adopts homeless Danny instead of Bruce and teaches him to be the family butler. Absolutely stunning. 8/9
sacrificial bat by hollowgast1
Shameless self promo! Nowhere near the level as these others, but hopefully you still like it. Danny is summoned by a cult and forced to overshadow Tim. Angst and identity shenanigans. 6/7
Transference by PoseidonChick13
Nightwing rescues traumatized, tortured Danny. Demon twins AU. So much delicious angst in this. 3/?
I thought you were gone (and you still found me) by TStarOPines
Evil Vlad keeps Danny captive. Dan and Ellie are reverted to cores, which Danny is "incubating." The Bats rescue him. Trigger warning for assumed noncon (there is none). 23/?
I love all the authors and readers that keep this community thriving. If you guys know if any of the authors mentioned here are on tumblr, feel free to tag them or let me know so I can tag them.
Reblog and add your favorite fic recs! It keeps the circle of support going, helps authors out, and gives us all something to read ;) Don’t be afraid to promote your own fics!
So this story is inspired by this post by @ouransisters , featuring moments by @zealousember , and also flavored with this post by @halfagone.
Danyal Ra's al Ghul Wayne ran away from the League of Assassins when he was just 7 years old. After being raised by Jack and Maddie Fenton, Danny James Fenton and his class are traveling to Gotham for a university tour when many things do not not go according to plan, but one thing does. There may now be extra bodies on the street, but at least the Demon Twins have been reunited at last, two bodies with one whole soul.
Disclaimer: I wrote this in one day and have not done any major editing. Maybe one day I will, idk.
Danyal al Ghul Wayne was supposed to be the only one who died. Left behind in that forest so that he didn’t have to keep competing with his twin, his brother, his other half, Damian. Damian, who was so much better at all of this, always was. Who was the favorite of Mother and Grandfather. So Danyal had to die. It’s not like they really looked that similar anyway.
Daniel Fenton was supposed to be the lucky one. Picked up by two mid-western parents with their daughter and adopted into the family when no trace of Danyal could be found. The kind parents who took so much time to help him adjust. Who marched into the schools time and time again because teachers and students treated Danny differently for his non-American accent or protesting discipline because Danny had a violent outburst.
But Danny learned. The League had trained them to be flexible. Even though there were times when that flexibility became brittle and Danny wanted to crack, to run back where everything was familiar and Mother would kiss his forehead and Damian would paint with him and Grandfather would put weapons in their little child hands- No. Danny could bear it. Danny could change.
Danny made friends! Danny switched one accent for another and tried not to shed tears when Farsi and Mandarin started to rust over, slipping from his mind. Danny learned how to tolerate the whispers and the bullies, for as kind as they are, Mom and Dad are also not Normal Americans. And from the ages of 7 to 14, Danny was glad for it because at least they were scientists instead of a cult.
Until Danny died inside a portal that swirled with Lazarus waters so pure they were the original source called ectoplasm. Chased for being an assassin, bullied for not passing correctly enough, and now in hiding for being a ghost.
At least Danny has Sam and Tucker. Has Jazz at his back and Damian in the past. Or so he thought.
Danny should have known better when the field trip form landed on his desk. Things were complicated enough as it is. But apparently this is his existence in a nutshell because his half-life has been doomed since birth.
“Alright class, this is a wonderful opportunity that has been provided to us. Gotham University is sponsoring classes of juniors in small towns across the coast to tour their campus and apply for scholarships,” Ms. Ling says as she passes out the fieldtrip forms. “Take these home and talk to your parents. We will be leaving on a Friday during school hours and come back on a Sunday after spending Saturday touring the campus. I urge you to think about your careers so you can ask our tour guide questions about programs offered at the university.”
Mom and Dad happily sign the field trip form, telling Danny about their days in university and how much fun it is to pursue your passions. Danny nods along. University sounds nice and all, though as far as Danny is concerned, there’s only one real goal in his future. Find Damian again.
~~~
“This place feels weird.” Danny suppresses a shiver as he looks around the gothic buildings of Gotham University’s campus.
“Well, yeah, look at all the smog in the air. The pollution here is off the charts, not to mention the gas attacks the villains here use,” Sam says as she gestures to the sky. “No wonder the university is desperate for students to attend. It’s a wonder that people are leaving the city in droves.”
“No I mean-” Danny glances around to make sure no one is near. “-It’s ghost weird.”
Tucker looks up from his PDA. “The portal is all the way back in Amity. Why would a ghost have followed you here?”
Danny shakes his head. “Not a ghost I’m familiar with. It’s like the whole place is breathing down my neck. It just keeps getting stronger too. Like I kinda felt it when the bus drove in yesterday, but then it was definitely more there this morning when we woke up.”
“So, it’s your ghost sense acting up,” Tucker hums as he thinks.
“We didn’t bring a lot of gear, just the discrete stuff.” Sam counts off her fingers as she mentally lists the supplies they have.
“I don’t know if it’s an attack or not,” Danny admits, “but we’ll just have to stay vigilant.”
They don’t even make it through to lunch.
~~~
The class is sitting at tables in a court yard, eating the sack lunches that were provided by the university, when an announcement cuts through the air. “Attention all campus staff, students, and visitors. This is an alert for unusual activity in the area. Please remain calm and allow the designated officials to conduct their search. If you see something, report it immediately.”
Ms. Ling immediately starts to consult with their tour guide and the chaperones.
“Uh, well that’s not ominous at all,” Danny says around a mouthful of sandwich.
“Yeah, and it’s about to get a lot worse. Look.” Sam points behind Danny and Tucker.
They turn, following her line of sight, and all but groan in complaint when they see the stark white uniforms. The group of Guys In White are making their way across the campus slowly, sweeping ghost hunting sensors around and making note of the readings.
“Alright, students. We’ve decided that the best course of action is to return to the dorm rooms we are staying in and continue the tour once this has passed. Please pack up and finish your lunches in your rooms.”
There are grumbles of complaint, but the class moves to follow Ms. Ling’s instructions. Sam, Danny, and Tucker keep a careful eye over their shoulders all the way back to the dorms. Even once they close the door, their nerves don’t drop.
While students were expected to be sleeping four to a room, no one wanted to stay with them (okay, well, Valerie would have but she wasn’t able to get her shifts covered and had to stay in Amity) and so they have a room to themselves, which is good.
“Okay, let’s run the inventory. What do we have?” Danny asks, immediately going to his suitcase.
Same lays out her supplies on the spare bed. “I have the lipstick case ecto-taser, the boomerang, and I brought the first aid kit with ectoplasm vials and the suture lines.”
“Yeah, not much on me either,” Tucker says. “I’ve got the sensor and another miniblaster. I just turned on the ectoplasm sensor and the readings are even higher than in amity park.”
“All I have is the thermos.” Danny adds it to the bed. “So it’s not an active ghost hunt yet, but something has definitely got the GIW all riled up.”
“What are the chances that they’re hunting you again?” Sam asks.
“I mean, it’s not likely, right?” Tucker nervously adjusts his glasses. “It would be hard to pick out Danny amongst all this interference.”
“And I’m not even in ghost form. Human-me is normally enough of a dampener,” Danny adds. Dammit, this can’t be happening. This is going to throw off the whole plan.”
Sam is about to say something else when there is a knock at the door.
The three of them exchange glances. It could be Ms. Ling or a chaperone doing a role call, but with their luck? It could also be Guys.
The knock comes again, if a bit more forceful. “In the name of the government, open up! This is a security sweep and we have a warrant for search.”
Fuck, it is the guys.
“Danny, go!” Tucker hisses, scrambling over to the door.
“We’ll distract them.” Sam shoves the supplies into her backpack and pockets.
Danny closes himself in the closet. He should run, but maybe the guys will leave once they see the room is empty and he can’t just leave Sam and Tucker behind.
There’s a creak of the opening door. “Hello, officer.” Tucker drawls. “How can I be of assistance?”
“The readings have gone up!” A voice says.
“Move aside, citizen, we need to search your room.” A second voice says.
Shit. This is not off to a good start.
Heavy footsteps enter the room and Danny waits with baited breath.
A beeping draws closer to the closet. “It’s coming from this direction,” Agent 1 says.
Okay. Nothing to it then. Time for maneuver 34.
Danny turns intangible, flopping his arms around as he bursts from the closet. “No! Help! I’ve been possessed!”
“A ghost, aim for annihilation!” Agent 2 raises a blaster, lining up a shot.
Danny can immediately see the training in the form. Fuck, these are not like the Amity Park GIW are they?
He jerks out of the way at the last minute, swerving to grab onto Sam and Tucker as he puts a ghostly echo into his voice. “If yooou want tooo see these children liiiive then yooou will cease fiiiire at ooooonce!” And then he flies out the window and into the streets of Gotham.
~~~
Danny sets Sam and Tucker down in the alley a few blocks away from campus. “Sorry about that, you okay?”
Tucker leans against the side of the building, a bit green in the gills. “Fine,” he squeaks.
“Yeah, all good.” Sam is already rummaging in her bag. “Here, Danny, drink this.”
What? Oh.
Sam shoves a vial of ectoplasm into his hands. He hadn’t even realized yet that he was wavering on his feet. Damn, using his powers while in his human form still takes so much energy out of him.
Danny downs the vial and ignores the voice of Danyal at the back of his head whispering about Lazarus waters.
“Okay, what now?” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Now we wait for the GIW to clear off of the campus and then we can head back,” Sam says.
“And if they follow us?” Tucker asks.
“They won’t, they’ve had their moment.”
“Normally, I’d agree.” Danny shakes his head. “But those Guys were more intense than Amity Guys. I played the Kid-Possessed-By-A-Ghost card and they tried to kill me. Not capture me.”
“Alright, then what do you suggest we do?” Sam slings the strap of her bag back over her shoulder.
Danny gives them a mischievous smile, eyes flashing with green. “I have an idea.”
~~~
Sam, Tucker, and Danny huddle at the end of the alley, their clothes and faces smudged with dirt. The Gotham Guys In White take significantly less time to hunt them down and soon, they are edging around the mouth of the alley.
“Help!” Sam shouts.
“Save us from the ghost!” Tucker adds.
Carefully and with quick precision, Danny flicks open the thermos and then closes it, only allowing one ghost to slip out. He prays that it’s a good one.
Shulker takes form before them and Danny lets out a sigh of relief. Okay, this’ll be a good show and then Danny will just vacuum Shulker right back up and congratulate the GIW and everyone will be happy and then he can sneak out tonight just like he planned.
“Do you know how long I was in there?” Shulker puts his hands on his hips and glares down at the three of them. “What the fucking hell do you three think-”
Shulker shrieks in pain, his chest bubbling green before his form explodes in sticky hot goo all over the alley, splattering onto Sam, Tucker, and Danny.
Danny lets out a strangled gasp.
The shot came so fast! He didn’t even see the agent step into the alley! That’s not how that was supposed to go! They… They…
They killed one of his ghosts.
“Shh, Danny, it’s okay.” Tucker’s hands come over Danny’s head, pulling his face down to the crook of Tucker’s neck.
“We’re safe, now, it’s alright. You’re alright,” Sam says loudly. She leans on Danny’s back, stroking her hand through his hair as she whispers, “Your eyes, Danny. Control your eyes.”
What?
His eyes?
Why is she worried about that when Shulker was just-
The green light glows against Tucker’s neck and sweater collar, pulsing in time to the rage flooding through Danny’s veins. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep shuddering breaths. He forces his aura down, down, down. Wrap it up small and tuck it away. Dull down the shine of the ghost core in his chest.
Heavy boots scuff against the pavement of the alley and then Sam and Tucker are crying out in protest as a hand grips Danny’s hair and lifts him up.
Danny yelps, dropping the thermos so he can grab the wrist of the agent in white. He looks up, wide blue eyes meeting brown ones that assess him over the top of sunglasses. Ectoplasm drips off of his shoulders.
“Scan him.” The agent says.
Another Guy comes up next to the one holding Danny, device in hand. “He’s putting off an ectoplasm signature, as are his two companions.”
“We’re covered in goop,” Tucker pipes up. “With that thing splattered all over us, your scans aren’t going to be accurate.”
“And our friend was possessed, there must still be some stuff in his system.” Sam adds, then her voice turns sweeter. “Thank you so much for saving us, you’re our heroes.”
The agent grunts and then puts Danny down, the barest corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “Very well. Decontaminate these citizens and then return them to the university. Reassess the affected areas for residual ectoplasm.”
Danny doesn’t say a word, just keeps pretending to be a scared and exhausted kid. If he were to open his mouth right now, he’s pretty sure that Danyal would be the one that jumps out.
After being cleaned up and returned to their dorm, after Ms. Ling thanks the agents profusely for rescuing her students (yes, she will call if there is anything wrong, thank you so, so much), after their peers look on and cajole names of Fenton the Ghost Freak, the three are finally left alone in their room.
Danny slowly sits down on the bed, thermos clutched in his hands and tremors racking his body. “Shulker wasn’t a thing,” he hisses.
Tucker’s face falls. “I know. Danny, I know. I’m so sorry. I was just… The GIW agent was right there and…”
And, and, and they’re just supposed to be teenagers caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. They aren’t people who know anything about ghosts. Danny isn’t supposed to be the Ghost King and Shulker isn’t supposed to be eviscerated and-
“It’s not your fault. It’s not any of our faults.” Sam wraps an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Like you said, Danny… the GIW here are different. We’ll just have to be careful and watch our backs.”
Danny should have known better when the field trip form landed on his desk.
~~~
Sam, Tucker, and Danny are allowed a few hours to rest, Danny sandwiched in between his friends on the bed, before Ms. Ling is knocking on the door.
Danny’s not sure who lets her in, but then she’s sitting next to the bed and gently putting her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Danny. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
He looks away and shrugs a bit.
“The university is opening the planetarium for a show before dinner. You always write so nicely about the stars in your essays, I thought you might want to see it.”
Danny thinks about it for a moment. It means he’ll have to move. He’ll have to go back out in public. But he’s going to need food soon. If he wants to sneak out tonight… they need to think that he’s getting over the attack.
“Yeah, okay.” Danny sits up and rubs his eyes.
Ms. Ling smiles. “Perfect, let’s get going.”
So, Danny sits in the planetarium and watches the show. Watches the planets move and the stars sparkle, tension easing just a tad from his shoulders. Sam and Tucker sit on either side of him, holding his hand for the entire show.
Dinner tastes like ash in his mouth, but he eats. He needs the strength and energy that food provides. If Dannyal is to find Damian tonight, then he needs to properly prepare.
~~~
Danny lays in bed, listening to the sounds of his friends falling asleep. Sam snores lightly in the opposite bed and Tucker’s face is still illuminated by the screen of his PDA from the spot he chose on the floor for his sleeping bag. For as often as they hold each other and share space, they still like to sleep on their own.
It works in Danny’s favor because now he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing them when he gets up from the bed.
That is, if Tucker would put down the screen and go to bed!
Finally, the room is plunged into darkness and Tucker’s breath evens out. Danny even waits five more, ten more, thirty more minutes just to be completely sure.
Then he is slipping from the bed with assassin’s grace, feet silent on the floor and the bed not even making a creak as he stands. He bends, grasping onto the handle of the backpack he stowed under the bed. It’s not stuff that he needs, exactly, not that he needs the equipment he used in his youth, but he has stuff he wants to show Damian. To show the life that he made away from the League.
And apparently he’s been gone from the League for too long, hasn’t practiced any of his skills in 7 years and the zippers of the backpack scrape against the wooden frame of the bed.
Danny freezes.
Sam’s sleep heavy breath is cut off in a moment and she’s turning over in bed. “Danny? That you?”
Now Tucker’s snoring stops as he lets out a confused grunt.
Danny bolts for the window just as Sam turns the light on.
They can’t stop him, not with his ghost powers. He’ll be out of the room and disappearing into the night in an instant. Except-
“Daniel James Fenton!”
Hearing Sam shout his adopted name has Danyal Ra’s al Ghul Wayne going completely still.
Tucker sits up, pushing his glasses back onto his face. “Oh, nuh-uh, you were totally not about to sneak out with out us, were you?”
“Uh, yeah?”
Sam shakes her head. “And what, exactly, were you thinking of doing?”
“Uh, go see if there’s some way to bring back Shulker?” Danny lies.
Immediately, both of his friends’ expressions soften. “Oh, Danny…” Sam mutters and at the same time, Tucker says, “He’s gone, buddy.”
“I just… I want to make sure.”
“I feel you, man,” Tucker sighs. “But there’s nothing we can do.”
Sam nods. “It’s better for you to be resting right now.”
Danny lets his shoulders slump, lets defeat cross his features. “Yeah. Alright.” He sets the bag back down. “I’m just…” He gestures to the attached bathroom door. “I’ll be back in a second.”
He crosses the room and unlocks the door to the bathroom, closing it behind him. It’s a bathroom that is connected between the two dorm rooms, so this is fairly risky on Danny’s part, but it’s almost 1am so no one else should be coming in the bathroom at this time.
In a flash of light, Danny changes into his ghost form and several things happen at once.
Pain lashes into Danny’s ghostly body, his form seeming to bubble and swell. Now that he’s transformed, he can see all of them. He can see all of them.
All the shades that have been cluttering around Danny all day. Attracted to the magnetic pull of his ghost core.
Now that he is here in the full glory of Phantom, the shades rush at him. They grasp and maw and yowl and claw at his form, bleeding themselves into his energy. And Danny can’t help but gasp at the backlash of the emotions.
Rage and hope and sorrow and joy and regret and fear, fear, fear, fear, fear.
They push into Danny until they are spilling right back out. It’s like a fuse catching fire, racing all the way down the line, the energy that explodes off of him.
One large amalgamation of a ghost that’s made of smaller ones launches itself off of Danny and flies away, burning a hole in the ceiling.
Danny stares after it, chest heaving even though his ghost form doesn’t need oxygen.
Sam and Tucker yank the door open, staring at him. They were probably going to lecture him on trying to sneak away from them again, but now their attention is also fixed on the hole melted into the ceiling.
The other door is open too and Danny can hear a classmate say, “Whoa, Phantom? What are you doing here? What was that?”
Danny pulls himself together enough to flash a peace sign. “Hey there, don’t worry about it. Gotham is a weird place, am I right? Anyways, gotta go.” He takes off through the ceiling, tailing the mass of ghosts that is tearing off screeching into the night.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, balls, and more shit.
The fucking hell was that?
Danny isn’t supposed to be doing any ghost fights here! And the Ghost Investigation Ward that is actually, unfortunately competent is here! He has to get to that cluster of ghosts before the Guys do!
Damnit he doesn’t have the thermos.
But Tucker and Sam will find him soon to back him up. He just needs to keep the ghosts occupied and away from the GIW until he gets the thermos. Oh, and he has to do it quickly enough that he still has time to trek across the city so he can find Damian. This is fine. This is totally fine and under control.
Danny splits himself into three copies and they fly at the ghost cluster from separate angles, pinging off ecto-blasts.
Quickly scanning the area, he spots the field that stretches between the dorm buildings and the academic buildings of the campus. Perfect.
Using a volley of shots and by cajoling the mass of ghosts from different angles, Danny is able to lead it down to the ground, chasing it around the field and never letting it get too much further into campus.
The thing keeps waving its many arms to grab at Danny and he does his best to keep its attention split. From what he can tell– and from what he felt –the collection of shades want to go take revenge on people that they blame for their lives not amounting to anything. And Danny can’t have that happening.
It doesn’t take long for the collection of ghosts to turn from its goal and start focusing their efforts onto Danny. Unfortunately, that is also the point where it starts learning.
A hand snakes out to grab the ankle of a copy, bashing it into the ground until it poofs and Danny winces in pain, too focused on dodging the wild ecto-blasts the thing is starting to put out.
Trying to mitigate the damage, he trades ecto-energy blasts for ice ones, freezing entire limbs of the thing. It scratches and the wobbly form trembles, changing direction to run from Danny again instead of attacking him.
Danny creates another copy and sends it racing back to the dorms.
Thankfully, Sam and Tucker are running across the lawn in all of their pajama-ed glory.
“Danny!” Tucker shouts, the thermos held high over his head.
“Thank you!” The copy of Danny takes it and zips back to the fight.
Creating two large walls of ice, Danny corners the mass and sucks it into the thermos. It leaves the world the same way it spawned, with an ear splitting screech.
Danny winces and rubs his ears as his feet settle back on the ground. This was not how the night was supposed to start.
Sam and Tucker run up behind him, Tucker even slaps him on the back. “Way to go!”
“Do not congratulate him!” Sam splutters. “This is a disaster of his own making! If he hadn’t tried to sneak out by going ghost, then this wouldn’t have happened.”
Danny tilts his head back and groans loudly. “Sheesh.”
Tucker frowns. “No, actually, she has a point. Man, what were you thinking?”
“I, um… I wanted to find my brother…” Danny finally admits.
His friends stare at him blankly before they cry out in surprise. “What?!”
“You have a brother?”
“Since when?”
“Well, he’s my twin, so, since always?”
“Why have we never seen him?”
“Does he look just like you? Identical or fraternal?”
“Fraternal. And he lives with our bio father. I was adopted. Clearly.”
That response only leads into another loud bout of questions and Danny has to pinch the bridge of his nose as he wavers on his feet. This day has really taken a lot out of him.
“Okay, okay, hold on.” Sam goes into her bag to pull out another vial of ectoplasm. “Here, once you get some energy back, then you can explain to us and we’ll go find him together.”
But the punches keep on rolling and before Danny can respond or receive the vial, he’s dodging a blaster shot.
“Dammit! It’s the Guys again!” Danny kicks off the ground, turning so he can look backwards while flying with his back parallel to the ground.
Sam and Tucker break into a mad dash to keep up with him.
“They are just not letting up at all today, are they?” Tucker gasps.
“What is with these Guys?” Sam takes the thermos from Danny, stowing it in her bag.
“I told you,” Danny says as he lines up his warning shots. “This GIW team actually has their shit together when compared to the ones we see in Amity.” He holds his right wrist with his left hand while his right hand is positioned as a finger gun, beaming pot-shots at the feet of the Guys chasing them. If he keeps it up quickly enough, then he should be able to keep them from being able to land anything.
In an ideal world, he’d grab Sam and Tucker’s hands and they’d fly off to regroup like they did at lunch time, but he doesn’t have the energy to make non-ghosts invisible right now.
Plunging into the streets of Gotham, they race off of campus.
They take turns down streets at a desperate pace, but the group of GIW stay right on their tail, pace for pace and turn for turn. Main roads, boulevards, alleys, avenues, and side streets, it doesn’t matter. This is their home turf while Sam, Danny, and Tucker are scrambling to play keep-away.
“Danny,” Tucker wheezes and says around gasps, “I need- My inhaler-”
Shit. Danny’s hands lock around Tucker’s shoulders as he stumbles, going to his knees on the pavement.
It’s the stumble that saves Tucker’s life.
The blast of burning energy grazes over the top of Danny’s forearm and Tucker’s shoulder, sizzling their skin and scorching a hole through their clothes. Sam slides to a stop and turns, reaching out to help even as she keeps her gaze locked on the approaching agents.
Whipping around, Danny bellows with the pain and throws up a shield right before a second blast can nail Sam between the eyes.
Fuck it. He’s killed before.
Danny stands in front of his kneeling friends, two of the people who mean more than the world to him. He blocks them from the agents as his shield comes down and his hands come up, double finger-guns.
Danyal has played with the idea before Danny dismissed it for being too violent. Now it’s the perfect method. Ice pellets propelled by ectoplasm blasts.
This is for Tucker.
This is for Sam.
And this is for Shulker.
The three bodies drop to the street. It’s not his best work and Mother would say that he wasted bullets, but given that it’s been roughly 9 years, Danny is pretty proud of himself for shaking off the rust.
Sam lets out a strangled gasp of shock. Tucker goes still in the middle of pulling out his inhaler.
“Danny-”
“What did you do?”
Danny drops down next to Tucker, encouraging him to use the inhaler. “Relax. They’re not chasing us anymore.”
Sam repeats herself with more emphasis. “What did you do?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve killed.”
“You’ve done what before?!”
Yeah, alright, that was maybe not the best thing to say to his vegan friend.
Danny puffs out a breath, sitting cross-legged in mid air next to Tucker. “Alright. We’re getting into this. So the short version is that I grew up in a cult. My brother and I were being groomed to take over one day. He was better at it than me so I ran away. My birth name is Danyal Ra’s al Ghul Wayne. My brother’s name is Damian Thomas al Ghul Wayne.”
Tucker’s eyes go wide. “Wayne… You mean…”
Sam rapidly shakes her head. “I’ve met Damian at a gala before, you don’t look or sound similar.”
“First of all, rude. Assimilation is a thing, you know. Second of all, remember that I said fraternal twins? I take after Father and Damian takes after Mother. Third of all, do we want to be having this conversation out in the open on the street?” Danny gestures to their surroundings.
Tucker gets to his feet, if a bit shaky. “Thn, uh, what are we gonna do about the bodies?”
“What bodies?” Danny asks with mock innocence.
“The bodies right there, you-” Sam stops her gesturing as she looks at the empty street. “What. They were just there.”
“Already took care of it.” Danny unfolds his legs and floats in pace between them. “They’re phased six feet under.”
Tucker slowly raises his hand as they start walking. “I, for one, would like to hear about the cult.”
“Noted. But we need to get to a safe place first and considering that the dorms are now compromised, let’s go see my brother.”
“Doesn’t that also mean seeing your father?” Sam crosses her arms. “What is he going to think about his son being a killer?”
“Probably the same thing he thinks about my brother.”
“And your parents?! They’re going to be so disappointed in you.”
Danny shrugs. “Mom and Dad are fully convinced that ghosts are inherently malicious and evil, and yet they built a portal to the Ghost Zone. The portal, might I add, that turned me into a half ghost, and now they try to hunt me down too. As much as I love them, they're completely supervillains at this point. The only reason I have any morals are because you two, Jazz is just real good at faking it."
They manage one more block before Danyal’s old instincts have him yanking Sam and Tucker into the safety of an alley, blaster shots missing Danny by a hair.
This time, Danny aims to wound, but when the blaster fire doesn’t stop, he puts the ice pellets between their eyes. This time, Sam and Tucker watch in silence.
“They’re not going to give up, are they?” Tucker asks with dawning realization.
“Probably not.” Danny scans the street. There’s still so far to go until they reach Wayne Manor.
He moves to step out of the alley so he can phase the bodies into the ground, but a blur of color has him stopping.
Damn, maybe he’s more rusty than he thought. He completely forgot about the bats and the birds.
Robin stands in front of them, katana raised. “Halt. Not one step further.”
Danny slowly raises his hands, not that a sword would do much to him, but Sam and Tucker are going to be very vulnerable to it. “Hey there.” His eyes flick back down to the blade, catching on the calligraphy etched into the metal. “Nice sword, assassin quality.” (Fuck, shit, and balls. It really has been too long. He can’t properly remember the coded phrase for greeting an undercover member).
There’s something that flickers across Robin’s expression that has his posture dropping, the sword going slack in his hands. “أخ؟”
Aw crap, if he thought that his Farsi and Mandarin were swiss cheese, then his Arabic is a carcass. “You wanna run that by me again?”
Robin’s face hardens again and he holds up the sword. Not in a threatening gesture, just to display the blade. “You recognized this.”
“It’s League of Assassin quality, yeah.” Danny scrunches up his nose in thought, eyebrows drawing together with a crease. “Uh, honor and death or something. I think.”
There’s that flicker of recognition again and Robin takes a cautious step closer.
A black shadow thumps down on the street behind Robin. Night cut into angles and muscle, the white lenses of Batman’s mask narrow as he watches Robin approach Danny. “Robin,” Batman barks out in warning or reprimand, hard to tell.
“Hush, Father, one moment,” Robin raises a hand and presses two fingers to the creases between Danny’s eyebrows.
A pit of anxiety twists in Danny’s gut, his feet hit the street as gravity reclaims him. Whether it be from surprise or to give Robin better reach because he’s shorter than Danny. Darker skinned too, with a thicker accent.
“Danyal? Is it really you?”
Despite being dead, the breath gets punched out of Danny’s chest. It can’t be. There’s no way. “Damian…?”
With his free hand, Robin reaches up and takes off his domino mask so hastily that the skin of his forehead and around his eyes goes red.
Green eyes. Forest green. Emerald green. The green of home and nights clutching at each other, two bodies with one soul in one bed, braced against the horrors that came in the daytime.
Danny returns to his human form in a flash of light, hands moving to hover around Damian’s face, not daring to touch in case the illusion were to break.
The sword and mask fall from his hands as Damian clutches onto Danny’s sleeves. He speaks rapidly in broken Arabic, Farsi, and Mandarin, the half remembered codes bleeding together.
“Damian, Damian, Damian,” Danny chants his name like a prayer, clutching onto his brother’s gray uniform.
They laugh and hold onto each other, so many questions and not enough answers.
Batman stares in shock behind Robin.
Sam and Tucker gape behind Danny.
“How?” Damian asks, “How is this possible? How are you here? Danyal, how?”
“Well, it’s Danny now,” he says with a chuckle. “And it’s a really long story. But I’ve known you were in Gotham for about four years now. Ever since the papers announced that you moved in with Father.” Danny laughs again. “I may or may not have then gone on a mad internist spiral until I figured out the address for the manor. We were on our way to you when-” Danny’s smile sputters out. “The Ghost Investigation Ward has a personal vendetta against my existence and while I can stomach a few blows, I take personal offense against my friends being on the receiving end of that vendetta.” Is it just Danny’s ears, or is he sounding more like Damian now?
Danny smiles again as he looks over his brother. His twin. His other half. “And you’re Robin! You left the league too. I can’t wait to hear everything.”
Batman steps forward, pushing his cowl up to the top of his head so he can look at Danny and Damian with his own eyes. With eyes the same blue as Danny’s. “I am also looking forward to hearing everything. Let’s get you three out of here. We can provide medical care too.” His assessing eyes land on Tucker’s shoulder, flicker back to Danny’s arm. “The batmobile is on its way, and then we will head to the manor.”
Damian and Danny nod, smiling as they hold each other closer. Two bodies with one soul, reunited at last. Danny is so glad that that field trip form landed on his desk.
If you like my writing, here is the long form fic that I have been working on! Charades Tumbling Down (it’s Dead Serious instead of Demon Twins) ((Also known as the project that I was supposed to be working on today.)
bruce’s dad lore has got to be the most insane thing.
and like, he’d drop it at the most random times, because he genuinely doesn’t believe it’s all that interesting.
so here’s some good potentials.
dinner at wayne manor-
duke: so like, a cult is-
bruce, without pausing his eating or looking up: i was kidnapped by a cult when i was eighteen. they wanted to drain my blood.
everyone:
tim: what the fuck bruce
alfred, passing through: ah yes, i had almost forgotten. no one speak his name, or he will know master bruce survived.
the rest of the table:
in the batcave-
jason: being buried alive is a very traumatizing experience, i’ll have you know.
bruce: yeah, i got mud all in my mouth cause it was raining.
the kids:
bruce: oh, and i broke the casket when i finally got it open, so i had to get my dad a new one.
jason: what the fuck
on patrol-
steph: hey, bruce! if you were to go back in time, would you go to, like, fifties bop or midwestern cowboys
bruce: well, the midwestern cowboys were sort of fun, but there was this one guy shooting everyone with a gun from the future, and i had to fight robot pterodactyls. so i guess if i didn’t have to deal with that, the widwestern would be more fun.
the coms:
barbara: bruce what the fuck
the dinner table, again-
dick: i’m just saying, arkham isn’t the best mental institution to base your opinion on.
bruce: it was a lot worse in the eighties. the food was awful and the doctor only wanted to experiment on me.
the kids:
dick: what the fuck
alfred, passing through: master bruce, how many times do i need to apologize for that before you cease bringing it up?
bruce:
the batcave, again-
damian: from what i’ve researched, dent was fairly intelligent before he succumbed to his insanity, and-
bruce: actually, harvey cheated off of me whenever he could, which didn’t actually make any sense, because he was studying law and i was studying medicine, but most of those grades are mine, anyways. and some are probably harley’s and john’s, i’d bet.
everyone:
duke: what the fuck
on a stakeout-
jason: i’m just saying, old man. if you’d kill the joker i-
bruce: well, i did try.
jason:
bruce: stupid kryptonians getting in the way.
jason:
the coms:
jason: what the fuck.
on patrol, again-
cass: poison ivy and harley quinn were spotted downtown, two of us should-
bruce: oh! i forgot i scheduled dinner with them. you kids have patrol covered, right?
the coms:
damian: what the fuck
in the living room, watching an action movie-
bruce: this reminds me of the time i climbed mount everest.
the kids:
stephanie: what the fuck ?
in the hall, looking at the new family portrait-
bruce: you know, when i was a kid i tried to get alfred into the family portrait because he was dating my parents and we all wanted him to be a part of the painting, but he refused.
Bask in Our Cosmic Insignificance by DisillusionedDanny :
After Lady Gotham sends a lost and alone King Phantom to check on a little boy Danny Fenton finds himself the new guardian "angel" of a six year old boy.
Tim Drake.
Word Count: 33,632
The Devil Wore a T-Shirt by DisillusionedDanny :
After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself?
Word Count: 24,778
Who's Old Now? by LiraBuswavi :
“Am I your dad!!?” Billy shouted. Danny paused. Took a deep breath in and out before turning to him.
“I’m gonna need you to back up, and explain. Please.”
Or, what happens when a twelve year old masquerading as an adult superhero calls his guardian, an adult who can also turn into a child superhero, on speaker phone, in front of the Justice League.
Word Count: 36,017
Of All the Things My Hands Have Held by DisillusionedDanny :
Upon learning that her son is in a relationship, Talia decides to create a clone to gift to her son as a gift to celebrate finally settling down. Now Damian and Danny are stuck trying to figure out how to raise a baby when neither of them had the best examples growing up.
Word Count: 17,066
Mourning a Young Soul Leads to Shared Custody by Olive_of_Vanders :
Danny was given a choice.
Become King or parent a ghost kid. Ghost kid sounded a lot more easier to him.
Word Count: 41,929
It's Not Sugar by ConspiracyCrows :
Ellie is destabilized and nearly killed by Vlad while trying to make another, "better", clone of Danny.
In order to stabilize her she was de-aged to about 7, and now has chronic issues balancing her ecto the same way a type one diabetic has issues balancing blood sugars. In fact that's the cover story the pair use when Danny enrolls Ellie at Gotham Academy. The one favor he will allow Vlad to do for them. While Vlad seems to have finally come to his senses about Ellie, Danny won't let him anywhere near her ever again. Which is why they moved to Gotham in the first place, Vlad won't step foot there.
It also helps that Lady Gotham is more than happy to have the Realms' Ambassador to the Living in her streets.
They settle into Crime Alley, and Danny may or may not have forgotten to introduce himself to the Haunt owner, assuming Gotham would handle the niceties as he gets Ellie settled, and handles the pressing issues of the negotiations between the city, the realms, and those denizens of both who want or need one thing or other.
Word Count: 23,052
On-going
Deadly Assumptions and Their Consequences by Silver_star_06 :
The Justice league believes that Phantom is Captain Marvel‘s dad and tells the hero to summon him to help them with Darkseid.
They weren’t expecting the cryptic eldridge being to start hanging around the watch tower.
Danny couldn’t help but feel a kinship with the pre-teen that ended up as the current Captain Marvel. A scrappy black haired and blue eyed child vigilante, that only became one because of circumstance.
Danny was going to help this child whether he wanted it or not.
Word Count: 25,977
My Dad is Dead to Me by GhostInGotham :
John Constantine was fourteen when he set his house on fire.
John Constantine was fourteen when he realized his father was still inside.
Word Count: 19,573
Phantoms and Foes by Zylev :
Krypton was dying long before it exploded. After a lab accident at 14 gave Danny ice powers, he used them for good to try and stop crime as the first hero of Krypton. But when thousands of years of mining the core of Krypton finally caught up to the planet, General Zod evacuated Krypton to the Phantom Zone before it exploded. Little did Zod know he led the Kryptonians to a slaughter. Years later, Danny is the only Kryptonian left alive when Kal-El finds the Phantom Projector and brings him to Earth. Danny must now adjust to having new powers and life on a planet that is completely different than Krypton and the Phantom Zone.
Word Count: 121,723
The Human Prince of Ghosts by AceFace98 :
Danny has been King for a few centuries now, but he's still half-ghost, immortal or not. So every now and again, Clockwork likes to kick him out of the Realms to go play human for a decade or two.
It's usually pretty boring. This time, though, he meets a small child with a camera and a lot of pointed questions and immediately has Dad Instincts about it.
Word Count: 65,300
Phantom's Progenies by Makuro767 :
progeny
/ˈprɒdʒɪni/
noun
plural noun: progenies
a descendant or the descendants of a person, animal, or plant; offspring.
A drabble collections of Danny Phantom as the father to several kids that are both his and clones of him from several different realities. Fluff with doses of trauma.
~
If you think you can write a full story from each drabble, be my guest.
Word Count: 79,111
This is a HUGE multi-crossover fic FYI
So, it's already a classic that Constantine is a tax evader for the Realms and our Schrödinger's boy is the one who fixes his paperwork mess.
So I thought, how can Danny return the favor?
Well, have you seen that one of Batman's most iconic moments is when he says "Boo" to some Grim Reapers who were complaining that he's escaped them several times?
Then it hit me like a flash: Grim Reapers are to Danny what demons are to Constantine.
Danny is both alive and dead.
So, of course, this has to be a pain in the ass for the Grim Reapers and Grim Reapers-adjacent (The Fates). For Danny, living and dying is like turning a light switch on and off, and the Grim Reapers are like, the people in the house who see him do it but can't do anything about it.
Danny has a mountain of paperwork the size of Everest in his name, but they can't give it to Danny because, as the Ghost King, he's their fucking superior. So they have to swallow their anger and try to keep track of when he's alive and when he's dead.
But then, through divine intervention Clockwork, they discover that Danny's biological father is John Constantine.
Yes, that John Constantine they also have beef with. And did you know he has no idea he has a biological son?
Just imagine: John is at a JL meeting when, out of nowhere, a portal appears and a grim reaper emerges from it, asking for John Constantine. The League relaxes a bit because, unfortunately, it wouldn't be the first time a supernatural being has done this, but they're on guard and judging John with their eyes because the entity in question is a grim reaper.
Constantine, on the other hand, is confused as shit because he doesn't remember having fucked around with death or death-adjacent recently.
And Constantine (along with the JL) discovers that:
1) He has a son.
2) His son somehow manages to constantly die and revive.
3) His son is following in his footsteps and fucking with supernatural entities.
4) Grim Reapers are very petty, because they're being more cryptid than usual and telling him everything except the whereabouts of his son.
i was playing pokemon blue on stream earlier at 350% speed and i got to thinking
what if the reason nobody in the pokemon world has any good teams is because its considered a dick move to have a proper team comp
like culturally everyone is like “haha pick the pokemon you want! if you’re happy with three geodudes, thats you and your life!” and then you’re supposed to just have a friendly battle with any other pokemon trainers and whatever pokemon they just happen to have
like the average trainer is probably just walking around with a growlithe because that’s their pet, or a hiker has three geodudes because the geodudes help him with hiking. and if this pet owner and geodude hiker meet, you’re supposed to have a friendly battle but nothing too serious
now imagine the 10 year old kid that has six pokeballs on their belt comes up. you’re like “haha, we’ll have a friendly battle!” and you throw out your geodude
and they throw out a fucking gyarados, and it one-shots your geodude
and then you throw out your pidgey you have because the pidgey helps you navigate mountains because you’re a hiker
and then electricity crackles around the gyarados and a thunderbolt flies off of this giant dragon and evaporates your pidgey
so you’re down to your last pokemon. you tell them you’re gonna send out your bulbasaur. the ten year old is like “oh okay in that case i’m gonna pull out my vulpix.” like not only is this kid walking around with an amped-up super dragon, but theyve also got multiple pokemon specifically for making type advantage counter-picks?
this kid’s a fucking asshole! really, kid? what are you trying to prove here? this is a friendly match between strangers for fun! why are you composing real-ass competitive teams? what a fucker!
i mean if you look at how npc’s talk about their pokemon, they’re service animals mostly. some of them are just pets. apparently they really enjoy sparring, so you let them battle other people’s pokemon for socialization, it’s like going to the dog park.
hell yes i’d be mad if i took my chronic pain support chow-chow to the dog park and some asshole with four rottweilers and a husky was like SIC EM THUNDERNUTS even if my dog enjoyed the tussle at first.
look, kid, the paras helps me weed the garden. it’s not a special forces attack paras. it’s just a bug that eats dandelions. please calm down.
It’s not the trainers’ fault, they’re going about their god damned business trying to get badges and go to the Pokemon League and stop legendary Pokemon from fucking shit up and save the world, but they’ve got fuckin’ Hiker Willy stopping them on the path and running over here like;
“PLEASE WILL YOU STOMP MY TWO GEODUDE INTO THE EARTH!”
Like, fuck off, if Willy didn’t want my Swampert to one-shot his hiker helpers then he shouldn’t be trying to harass unaccompanied 10-year-olds halfway up a mountain. I mean, at some point, ya gotta know what a trainer looks like, and the majority of them are little tweens running around by themselves. These are little twerps trying to go up against the Elite Four, they’re not messing around.
Hiker Willy is asking for it. He’s asking me to kill his Pokemon.
When Nightwing tells Justice League members that Batman makes him laugh, obviously, everyone knows that he's joking, because that's Batman. How the hell does That make anybody laugh?
But then really weird things start to happen. Like suddenly, Batman starts making little quips that toe the line between sarcasm and puns. He begins to humor the stupid ideas that other heroes come up with purely for comedic purposes. He even admits things like "Jesus, I'm getting so old, if I hurt my back much more, spin class is going to be an issue."
And the thing is, Batman only does these things when Nightwing is around, and it literally always earns a laugh from the younger hero. Sometimes they high-five after Nightwing recovers from a fit of giggles. At this point, nobody knows that they're father and son, so this type of behavior is just really freaking people out.
BATCOM CONVO MASTERPOST
(since multiple people sent asks about this, I'll put them all here and link this post in my pinned)
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7 (league days pt 1)
part 8 (league days pt 2)
part 9
part 10
part 11
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