I had this idea and now I can't stop thinking about it. Because I think John Constantine would remember after a while that he was Dan Phantom and then look at everything he's done. And just decide that Danny's grounding (if we're doing it as Danny would accept him as a son or maybe Clockwork) is a sure thing once he dies so he can take the opportunity and do everything before that happens.
I don't know I find it hilarious because I have a scene where the world needs help and Constantine/Dan have to summon Danny who in his 20 year old body treats Constantine/Dan who is 40 like a child in front of the entire League.
Most times, Tim is not a fan of social interaction. If he can acquire the necessary data from literally anything written in text, without the need to actually talk to people, he does that. It's the logical thing to do, come on! People lie, or, even if they don't, they take ages to get to the point, and you can't put them on pause or set aside to return later. Some written resources lie as well, but that is, at least, way easier to prove by relying on several of them instead of a single one.
That saying, he can work in a team — Young Justice is great proof of that. Batfamily, not so much, but then, none of the Bats like working together. Because they are all hypercontrolling, manipulative, and paranoid.
And yet, keeping all that in mind, right now Tim is about to go and speak — using his mouth and words — to a GCPD mortician whom he's never seen or met before in his life.
All because of this report.
More precisely, because of the line 'pls come talk to me if u r a bat' that was inserted right into the file, just between the description of contents of the victim's stomach and the rather unappealing photo of the same thing. Tim supposes the placement was intentional — most people skip over that kind of information, jumping straight to the cause of death. Which is a homicide, by the way.
Not that it's anything unusual in Gotham.
Tim walks through the hallway, keeping his steps silent. Daniel Nightingale, the mortician, more accurately a pathologist, works graveyard shifts — very ironic and no less convenient — and most days, he does so all alone, so Tim is not expecting company. He is just keeping quiet out of habit.
And yet, as he gets closer to the autopsy room, he hears it. The chipper, amused voice from inside.
"You can't just make that shit up, I swear," it laughs, "Oh, Minerva. You were way too old to pull it off." There's a pause, and then it starts speaking again, filled with hidden laughter, "You don't say?"
The door is, thankfully, already half-open. Tim takes a quick look inside, hoping to figure out who's the other part of the alleged conversation, but the only person there — erm, the only alive person — is a guy in a gray uniform and a lab coat. Supposedly, Mr. Nightingale. There's also a corpse of an old lady on the table in front of him, of course, but Tim doubts she can hold up the conversation. A phone call? Or maybe he's just talking to himself?..
The guy raises his head briefly, turning to the door.
"Come on in, lurking in the shadows doesn't suit you," he calls, almost cheerful, and Tim pauses.
He's pretty sure he hasn't made a single noise.
Oh, well. Maybe he did. Maybe the pathologist has an alarm system in case of a zombie apocalypse. Maybe he sees the future. The possibilities are endless.
Tim steps inside.
"I'm here about your note," he says, cutting the greetings and niceties. The pathologist hums, his eyes still on the bare, skinless ribcage of the woman before him.
"Cool. Which one?" He asks without missing a beat. Tim stares; the guy looks entirely too nonchalant, given the circumstances, but that's not the only reason. Daniel Nightingale is way younger than Tim expected — twenty, at most — and he is... well, if Tim had a type, which he doesn't, he would definitely check all the boxes. Most of the boxes. A lot of boxes.
Okay, he's just good-looking, what is he even thinking about, this is getting sidetracked.
"There was more than one?" He asks because that's the logical, reasonable thing to ask. Daniel glances up at him. A tiny strand of hair escapes his pinned down bangs, and the guy huffs, shaking it away from his face. Shouldn't he be wearing a hat?
"Yeah, I put the bat alert in at least five reports I've written. Only two recently, though, so, if you could specify?" He asks. The loose strand of his hair moves all on its own, brushing itself up over Daniel's head. Then, one of the bobby pins comes out, hanging in the air briefly, and goes back into Daniel's hair, securing it from falling again. "Thank you, Minerva," the guy smiles politely, casting a glance to the side.
Tim is not sure what's going on but he has a hunch.
"I'm speaking about John Doe from last week?" He attempts, but Daniel only hums.
"Unfortunately, that doesn't narrow it down," he turns back to the table, looking down into the old lady's open abdomen with a critical eye. "Darling, do you think you'll be fine here all on your own while I speak with our dear guest?" He asks, almost demurely, and Tim is not dumb. Minerva is definitely the name of the lady on the autopsy table. The question is, does GCPD hire schizophrenics during such dire times, or is the guy really some kind of ghost-whisperer?
The chances are, honestly speaking, 50/50. It's Gotham.
There's no response that Tim can hear, but Daniel straightens back up and takes off his gloves before turning to the other side, still away from Tim. "Mind cleaning up?" He asks again and then throws his gloves into the nearest bin. They don't land, but just as Daniel huffs and goes to retrieve them, the gloves float up from the floor like someone invisible picked them up and dropped them into the bin.
"Ah, thank you, Minerva," the pathologist smiles.
Tim feels an uncomfortable chill run down his spine.
"How many ghosts are in here?" He tries for casual, but fails spectacularly, judging by Daniel's chuckle.
"Five," he answers without any pause, "Six, if you count the nonverbal kid that's hiding in Page's cold locker. Anyway, John Doe?.."
A few of the instruments Daniel has used float up from the table and start moving towards the nearest sink.
Tim takes a deep breath.
Either he's gotten himself a new contact in GCPD forensics or a very alarming new meta. 50/50.
But Daniel's smile is 100 percent going to be a pain in his ass.
Catwoman was walking around the Gotham cityscape, enjoying the view of the night after a successful heist overseas. A one of a kind Ruby eyed ragdoll brooch that is now safely tucked away in her collection.
She snickered,
She could already picture how twisted that old hags face gets when she noticed the jewel has been replaced. How fun~
Hmm?
Catwoman stopped her trail on a nearby fire hydrant.
As a prominent thief in the Bat’s rogue gallery, she was rather well versed in the oddities Gotham had to offer. But a kid wearing soiled tailored clothes in the middle of the night while walking around like a zombie wasn’t one of them… guess that’s one more for the lists?
She watch from a far for a while before deciding to meet kid.
She didn’t really want to. But she did heard from a passing that the Bat isnt in his right mind as of late, and not to mention a rough scolding, the natives wouldn’t be too nice to a kid who looked like he came from money with how he was dressed… no matter how bad the state of the said clothes were.
“Hey Kitten, I know young minds like you like to explore and all, but dont you think its a tad bit dangerous here at night?”
Now, Selina was ready to beat the heck out of the kid if he were to act out and all that. But of all the things she was expecting, a blank stare wasnt one of them.
“…”
“…Kitten?”
His eyes weren’t focused at all, was the kid sleep walking? No, the state of the clothes doesn’t indicate that. And now she was closer, Selina could see how battered as bruised the kids hands were. Fresh too.
⟢ I love drawing eyes—their silence is louder than any scream. They don’t just look at you—they look through you, peeling back the layers you thought were hidden. Eyes are traitors to the soul, holding secrets no mouth could ever speak. They’re the one part of the body that never lies. (More under the cut)
Genre: Angst / Hurt / No Comfort • TW/CW: Graphic Content (Implied) — Trauma — Emotional Distress • Scarred For Half A Life (phic), my head canon • AU — OOC
Before the fall
His eyes used to be soft. “Ocean blue,” Jazz once said—like he had the whole world in front of him. Danny smiled more back then. He didn’t know what it meant to be—to be afraid of your own reflection. He didn’t know what it meant to be… to be haunted by yourself.
The moment it all changed
Then he died. Sort of. The portal lit up and swallowed him in stars. Pain, light, nothing. When he opened his eyes again, they weren’t his anymore. Something burned into the surface—a crackling, glowing scar. A warning etched into the iris. He stepped out different. He even thinks… part of him stayed inside.
After the nightmare
They broke him. Piece by fragile piece. Cut, shocked, bled, questioned. Loved, maybe. Hated, definitely. His eyes stopped crying long before his voice did. He forgot what warmth looked like. Sometimes he stared into a mirror just to see if he was still there. Sometimes… he wasn’t.
The return
He’s back. Not hole. Not healed. But he has power again. And rage. And scars no one can see. His eyes don’t plead anymore. They don’t hope. They hunt. “You took everything from me. So I’ll take something back.” And you’ll know it when he looks at you.
⟢ The second pair of eyes, someone had shared it—and I thought it was so freaking cool! Tragic, but awesome! Being zapped by 14.000 volts of electricity. The effect was two star-shaped electrical burns into his eyes. That’s just… so Danny coded!
⟢ For those still questioning the scarring on the left side of his face and the damage to his left eye—it’s a Lichtenberg scar, the result of sustained high-voltage electrocution during forced compliance in experimental procedures. Specifically, it formed when he refused to obey during one of their more aggressive sessions. The current surged through him, burning its dendritic mark into his skin. But the damage ran deeper. The shock ruptured the inner structures of his eye—tearing apart the iris and pupil from within, possibly detaching the retina. The result—permanent trauma-induced blindness in that eye. Almost blind. It’s even more tragic than it sounds.
GK!danny meets the JL and (due to magic users not being in the room) they offend him by threatening/patronising him or asking insensitive questions like how he died. Danny still wants some contact/alliance to help deal with the GIW, but doesn't wanna deal with mortal idiots rn. So he sends Dan in his place for his "community service" aka redemption arc.
Basically I really wanna see Dan dealing with the magically incompetent league and scare the shit out of them.
Bonus if Danny sends a letter along the lines of "Due to negative prior relations and differing priorities, all further communications will be conducted via my brother, as part of his mandatory community service. I advise against angering him, as he is on probation for genocide of a mortal realm. Good luck."
Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!
I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.
But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.
Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.
Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!
And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.
But then he tries to leave.
Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.
Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.
Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.
But either way, it doesnt work.
He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.
Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.
He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.
Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.
He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.
And he is trapped.
And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.
After hes been more or less kidnapped.
He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.
And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).
but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!
Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!
He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!
He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.
Most importantly, he knows their goals
But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.
And has no idea what they want
And Danny just freezes up
This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.
You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue
I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat
Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.
And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.
I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”
JL would not be happy about any of his responses.
Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day
my brain: 45 years ago this person could've made a public access television show that ran for half a decade on the strength of this concept with the right framing device and it would've been paid for with federal arts grants and maybe even national syndication rights. now they're begging for a single minute of engagement on tiktok in the hopes that maybe someday the abstract metrics of digital media platforms will translate into a tangible career
me: yeah
me: cute frog though
my brain: it is a cute frog
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