Dedicated to @versknobilis. I hope that the programming test went well! I was a little busy, but I finished one of my drafts for you!
Bruce Wayne has always been a prodigy. It's something he inherited from his mother, who had a way of connecting clues and seeing patterns when others couldn't. Unfortunately, she was from an era when women weren't considered intelligent enough to be properly credited, so even though she was the one who always handled any sort of problem, everyone congratulated his father for his quick thinking.
Bruce remembers questioning it aloud, assuming some adults weren't aware it was his mother, only to have them belittle him and his father step in. They attempted to get Thomas to join in their dismissive comments, even led him into insults about allowing his woman to behave that way, but Thomas never let them get away with it
They might have been one of the richest and oldest families in Gotham, but there was a reason why the Waynes were reclusive. Bruce never really questioned it when he was younger, living happily with his family. He just assumed everyone gathered only once or twice a year, since both his parents were constantly working (his father as a surgeon and his mother wrestling for respect at Wayne Enterprise). He had no idea it was because people- escpaically those of the first class- were upset with his parents constantly fighting against social norms.
For example, someone found out Georgie, one of the many butlers at Wayne Manor, had a male lover and went straight to Thomas to expose him. It was expected that they would throw out Georgie, let the wolves of the city tear him apart.
Instead, Thomas had thrown out the woman and then told Gerogie to invite his lover to dinner at Wayne Manor. Bruce later found out that Gerogie's lover had moved into the staff rooms with him because he had lost his job, and his landlord kicked him out when that woman went to spread the word about the nature of the men's relationship. His name was Victor, and he gave the best shoulder rides. They vanished a year later, and Bruce didn't know where they went, but Thomas and Martha had him pick the nicest pebbles from thier yard for them.
Bruce was aware of these things happening around him, much more than a child his age would be, but he didn't understand them. His intelligence let him see past the surface level and maybe even the first layer of social interactions, but adults were complicated and had so many layers to them, and the things they did that Bruce was violently reminded he was a child for all his intelligence.
That's why, despite the way everyone kept telling him that there was nothing he could do after that horrid night in the alley, Bruce used his intelligence and his childlike naivety to find a way to bring his parents back.
He went into his mother's secret safe, hidden under the Manor in a dark cave she thought he didn't know about. There he found a book, created with the blood of the Kane ancestors who weren't dark witches themselves but were great friends of the ones. He flipped through the book, under the covers of his bed, trying to stay out of Alfred's sight.
The Head Butler was busy getting all the affairs of his parents settled, letting go of the staff, ensuring that thier will was followed, and defending Bruce's inheritance against everyone. The man was busy, but thankfully, his parents had made sure he had power in case anything bad happened to them. The only problem was that Alfred was "worried" about Bruce's mental state after watching his parents get murdered in front of him.
Which meant that Alfred barely let him out of his sight. That's why reading his mother's forbidden "Dark Magic from the Coven of Witches, who was welcomed at Kane's table." It was a long title, but it was self-explanatory.
And in the middle of the book, Bruce found exactly what he was searching for.
He waited until Alfred had done his routine bedroom check, pretending to be sound asleep, clutching the book under the covers. Once the Head Butler (soon the only butler) moved on to retire for the night in his room, Bruce got to work.
He quickly pulled a giant teddy bear from his closet, struggling a little since it was the same size as himself, and tucked it into his bed. He made sure to pull the covers over its head and slap on a wig that matched Bruce's hair color, making it seem like he had buried himself in the blankets again.
Then, using a rope ladder he had stolen from the garden when the man was emptying out his worker shed, Bruce carefully climbed out of his window and ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, making sure to duck behind hedges, in fear that someone inside would spot him in the many windows of Wayne Manor. The people were all leaving, but the departure was slow, delayed by grief and confusion.
Bruce hoped that by the end of tonight, none of his staff would have to leave. That they could even call back the ones who were gone.
Eventually, he arrived in an area with no coverage, so he had to sprint until his lungs actually burned, but Bruce pushed on. He got to the wall where he had hidden another ladder, this one metal, and it was much harder to steal from the gardener. But it did what it was supposed to do. He was on top of the wall, pulled it up behind him, and used it to climb down on the other side in record time.
Which meant he was standing at the gate just as the taxi he had ordered earlier that night pulled up. Thankfully, he had been able to convince Ronnie, one of the maids, to record a "bedtime story" he wrote, in which she basically placed an order for a taxi. She flattered slightly when she saw he put his real address and actually paused at the destination, but she carried on, which meant he was able to play the recording into the phone receiver. The taxi company didn't suspect a thing.
The driver even helped him into the back seat, smiling warmly, because Ronnie had recorded the words "A ride for the young boy to a movie theater."
The ride was calm, the cabbie playing slow jazz on the radio, and the rain was gentle in the wind. Bruce watched Bristol slowly fade into Gotham, turning darker and grimmer as the cab made its way to the more dangerous parts of the city. He tried not to notice, forcing himself to focus on the water droplets instead of the sinking sick feeling in his stomach. He clutched the book to his chest, squeezing it when the familiar glow of that wrenched movie theater appeared.
The cabbie pulled into the curve, parallel parked, and then turned with a smile. He mentioned the price- much higher than it was because Bruce knew the mileage from his house to this place by heart after the weeks of obsessing over it-, but he paid the man anyway and got out. The gentle drizzle had stopped, which meant it was going to pour in about an hour. Hopefully, after he did what he came to do.
Bruce followed the path from the front of Morach Theater down the street and then took a turn into the alley that haunted his nightmares. He thought he could handle coming back here, but his feet froze only one step in, and the sounds of the gunfire blasted in his ears while his sight was overwhelmed by blood.
Bruce stumbled, landing on his knees, dry heaving as his world spun and the scream of his mother echoed over and over and over again. He was only able to snap out of it when his book fell from his shaking hands, splashing on a small puddle and making a loud bam. He scrambled to pick it up, wiping off the water as best he could. It didn't look too damaged, the heavy back cover protecting the pages inside.
Taking a big breath, Bruce gathered all the courage his eight-year-old body could contain, and he walked into the middle of the alley. A dark stain was near the wall, where his father's body had landed, but Bruce couldn't focus on it.
He flipped through the book until he found the page he wanted. It was hard to make out the words, since his sight was blurry with tears and his hands were shaking badly, but Bruce pushed the words out of his mouth. He had to do this. He had to call upon them.
Hours later, Bruce walked back into Wayne Manor, which was lit up by the red and blue lights of police cars parked in front of his home. Alfred was speaking to an officer, looking as distressed as the night the Waynes went to the movies. A few servants were to the side, some talking to other officers, some hugging themselves, and others just waiting around.
Bruce beamed, raising his voice, "Alfred!"
At once, every head in the yard snapped to him. Alfred all but threw the man he was speaking to as he took off in a run towards Bruce. "Young Master! Are you alright? Did someone take you? What happened? Where on earth have you been!? Why are you smiling like that after giving me nine heart attacks!?"
He clutched the boy to his chest, dropping to his knees and hugging the boy like he was afraid Bruce would disappear. He wasn't sure why, because Bruce wasn't going anywhere, but he hugged back just as tight. While pressing his face into the Head Butler's shoulder, he responded to all the questions with a cheerful chirp.
"I'm okay. No. I went into the city. I used Dark Magic to strike a deal with Gotham and Phantom. I'm smiling because Mom and Dad are home!"
Alfred pulled back, his face crumbled with grief and sorrow, "Young Master Bruce, we talked about this. Master Thomas and Lady Martha passed away. They aren't coming home-"
"That's a rude way to greet the man of the house, isn't it, Alfie?" Thomas joked, strolling in with Martha holding onto the curve of his arm. They were dressed in thier finest outfits- the very same ones Alfred buried them in. The butler froze for a split second before he was yanking Bruce into his arms and rising to his feet. He twisted so that he could shield the boy with his body, glaring at the couple.
"Who are you?" Alfred growled in a cold voice that sent shivers down Bruce's spine. Martha and Thomas paused just a few feet away from thier dear friend, blinking owlishly at the hostile tone.
"What do you mean?"
Martha and Thomas Wayne are dead. Who are you and why are you wearing thier faces?"
Bruce raised his hand, suddenly aware of why Alfred was behaving this way. "It's really my parents. Phantom brought them back for me as long as I keep my side of the deal. I have to become a knight for Lady Gotham and protect her from the crime and corruption in Gotham. Phanotm asked that I have twelve children, whom he will send to me, to raise and protect. They sealed it with a mark on my hand, see? The bat symbol? I'm going to be Batman one day! I have a lot of training to do!"
Martha's bell-like laughter filled the air as the couple continued to walk towards a stunned Alfred. The head butler knew that laughter, knew the way she would raise her hand to tap against her chin as if she were planning to cover her mouth, but didn't go through the full motion. Bruce once heard him joke that he would know her in a room of over ten thousand people, and that holds true as tears slowly spill over his cheeks, staring at her like she was a walking miracle.
"Our Bruce has such an imagination." Martha giggles, causing Thomas' smile to soften, but it falls away into a worried frown. He reaches out, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder, on the side that wasn't holding Bruce.
"Alfie, are you alright?" Thomas leans in, his blue eyes shining just as warm and kind as the day Bruce lost him. He beams at his father, leaning his head on Alfred's shoulder so the butler can answer.
His butler starts to shake, sobs spilling from his lips as he chokes, "My loves....you came back to me."
Thomas and Martha blinked, turning to give each other questionable looks before Martha carefully asked. "Of course, we came back, Alfie; we just went to the movies. It was only a few hours."
For some reason, those words cause Alfred to sob harder, nearly falling to his knees, and Bruce clings to his shoulders in fear of falling with him. Thankfully, Thomas has great reflexes, so he steps forward, pulling his arm away from his wife, doing his best to keep the sobbing man upright after catching him.
The police surrounded them, questions flying around, while Martha and Thomas scrambled to figure out what in the world was going on. No one noticed the pure joyful smile on Bruce Wayne's face, nor the book held at his chest.
The bat symbol on his hand faded out of view but was never forgotten. He would honor his part of the bargain. He would become the justice and protection this city desperately needed.
For a lifetime with his parents, he would gladly have handed over his own future to Phantom, the bridge between worlds and the Ancient of Deals.
Jason: I'm bringing my boyfriend to dinner at this month's family game night. I need you all to be chill about this.
Bruce flipping a table covered in glass figures: YES! YES. BOYFRIEND! MY BOY HAS A LOVER.
Jason: Bruce this isnt a football game stop-
Dick pull out his phone: TIM GET THE FIREWORKS!
Tim on face time: What for?
Dick: Jay has a Boyfriend! ONE HE WANTS TO INTRODUCE TO THE FAMILY!
Tim: WHAT?! YES. GOD YES! I'LL GET MY GUY FOR THE FIREWORK SHOW READY IN A HOUR
Jason: Tim has spontaneous fireworks shows guy?
Damian: Of course, he does. He's not a barbarian. Why are we celebrating?
Jason: Oh, hey, Dami. Sorry to wake you up from your nap. Bruce and Dick are just being dramatic about meeting my boyfriend.
Damian: You have a paramour?
Jason: Yes I do. What's with the tone?
Damian: I'm just surprised anyone would agree to that type of relationship with you.
Jason: The hell is that supposed to mean!?
Damian: I hear you tell Harper once that you would only enjoy the pleasure of flesh and that you would never commit to a relationship. I assumed that meant you would only have brief lovers for debauchery.
Jason: Oh. Yeah I told Roy that but that was before I meet Danny. He's more then a one-night stand.
Damian: Hmm. What does this Daniel-
Jason: His name is Danny
Damian: No. What does this Daniel do for a living?
Jason: He's a brain surgeon
Damian dropping to knees and ripping his shirt from overwhelming glee: YEEEEEESSSS!!!! OH MY GOD, HE'S A BRAIN SURGEON!!! TODD IS BRINGING A BRAIN SURGEON HOME!!! THERE IS HOPE FOR THE BLOODLINE!! FATHER TELL DRAKE TO CALL HIS BOUNCR HOUSE DEALER. WE MUST CELEBRATE TO THE FULLEST!
Jason: This is why I dont bring anyone home. Bruce, you good?
Bruce foaming at the mouth: SON-IN-LAW BRAIN SURGEON.
Jason: Mmh-okay. You're too far gone. I'll have to put you down.
Dick: *Twitching on the ground overwhelmed by happiness*
Jason: This one needs putting down too. Damn, I liked that one.
OMG OMG OMG I JUST SAW THAT ITS OPEN AGAIN! ASKDKDMD
Do you write Dead in Main (Jason/Danny). If not, I would REALLY like to read about Fright Knight!Jason. Like, in the time when he was dead, Jason was taken in by Fright Knight and by that point Danny was already king. He basically becomes the successor of Fright Knight and becoming Danny's personal guard.
Since time is pretty wonky in the Infinite Realms, the sixth months he was still dead felt more like years to them. And then Jason is brought back and Danny's livid but when he finally finds Jason, he's slowly healing. Danny decides to let him enjoy his living life and just silently heals Jason whenever the pits get our of control.
And then fast forward and there's a ghost problem and the JL have to summon the ghost king for help. Jason's there with the bats and seeing Danny just jogs his memory and his instincts and fright Knight training kick in to recognize his beloved king.
I wanna right this myself but at the same time my brain isn't being nice to me 🥹.
The summons wasn't even complete before Jason felt his Loyalty Vow kick in. It was a rush of adrenaline, nearly addictive if he's honest, and in the next second, Jason falls to his knee, one hand over his chest while he bows his head. One of his fists reaches towards his waist while his other hand reaches to adjust a sword that is not there.
His fingers slam against his belt, causing him to flinch. It's an action born of pure habit, but he has no idea where he formed such a habit. Bruce never trained him with swords, and his time with the League of Assassins was mostly spent with slimmer swords he kept on his back. There really was no reason to expect an arming sword at his hip, and yet his body obviously believed there should be.
"Hood?" Someone asked, over the blowing wind and the odd music that was blaring from unknown locations.
He changed his entrance theme song. An amused voice whispers in Jason's head. It takes him a moment to realize it's his own voice, his own thoughts, and he isn't sure about who he is, but the thought feels right.
Just like this pose.
The music rises, setting an ambiance of a god appearing before the heroes, desperate for a miracle. It's interesting to Jason how the media often reflects life because that is exactly what is happening now. They are asking a god to step in and stop another god.
But while the one that's against the Justice League is known as an enemy, they don't show what this god would do. If it's whims will make them a foe or a friend. A few hours ago, when the idea was proposed, Jason had been uneasy about the idea that they may be getting someone stronger who was far worse than thier current issue. There was never a guarantee that higher beings would share the same moral sense or even consider human lives valuable.
He hated the idea that they needed to rely on something that could be much worse. But Jason was from Gotham, and almost everyone there hated magic and anything to do with the higher planes. There were enough psychotic unpredictable monsters in Gotham created by the human mind; they had no desire to see something that could snap and an entire block disappear before the screams could even start.
Jason had been one of the few who voted against the summons for that reason. But he understood the majority rule more than people knew. On the streets of Crime Alley, if there was ever an agreement, it was that when the people got together, nothing could stop them. He had to settle while the magic users set up the summons, grumbling under his breath and looming like the rest of his siblings.
Hilariously enough, the magic users seemed more nervous about the entire Bat Clan watching than about offending whoever they were calling upon. He even saw one of them- A hero from France working under the name Magie Noire- cast a protection spell against demons, while looking at them.
Tim, the little shit, responded by biting the air towards the Frenchman. Duke made the shadows grow around all the bats a second later, allowing only their narrow eyes to be visible.
Even the Sups couldn't see through the darkness that responded to the demihuman, which made those who didn't work with them often shiver. Then, because something is wrong with Duke, on a psychological level, the shadows swallow them whole, but not before letting them take the shape of screaming humans, stretched around the little corner the Bats claimed as their own.
Magie Noire actually whimpered before John Consitiine reached over and smacked the back of his head, reminding him to focus on the signals they were drawing.
Despite the disapproval, Jason had left the dark corner, stepping back into sight and ignoring anything or anyone as the summons went underway. He couldn't tell why he moved or why he fell to his knee, but everything about this felt right.
Even the amusement of the song choice he made, despite once calling it tacky-
Like a dam breaking, memories overflowed Jason's brain
He was practicing his swings in the training field. Around him, squires of different backgrounds were doing the same. Many were hopefuls from distant territories who had come for the knight selection of the royal guard.
Only the best of the best would be able to move on to serve His Majesty. Those who failed would be sent home in shame. Not everyone would pass the first round of the selection process, but that didn't mean the pressure wasn't high on those from smaller territories to succeed. These were ghosts that were born there, and thier people's survival depended on how much fondness the King had for them. Natural resources were scarce in the Realms.
Jason was a rare ghost. He didn't have a territory to call his own where he served the local lord, nor was he a wandering ghost that had nothing tying him down. He was a new ghost, just arrived after his brutal killing. The older ghosts promised him that his death would eventually fade, and the pain would seem like a bad dream until he could not remember it or his life.
But Jason remembers everything, and sometimes he wants nothing more than to leave the Realms and see Gotham again. But he could never find his way home as natural portals to the mortal world were more scarce than resources; instead, he wandered between territories, treated once more like a street kid.
Back in life, the only way Jason had managed to avoid homelessness was by securing Bruce Wayne's attention. In death, the only way to escape homelessness was to secure the Ghost King's.
"His Majesty is watching," One of the squires whispered, her glowing hands trembling around the hilt of her sword. Jason doesn't dare glance up at the castle, but he can feel the King's burning stare as he reviews all the knight hopefuls. In two days' time, the squire camp would be cut in half as people would be dismissed for consideration. In two days' time, the remaining would be allowed within the castle walls for the next round of selection.
Jason is sitting on his bed in the barracks, his three roommates preparing for bed around him, while he is flipping through his latest book. He hopes to get in at least three chapters before his exhausted body forces him to rest.
He's been a knight for about six months. Back home, that would have been six days, at least he thinks. One of his roommates swore up and down that he could calculate time warping in different realms and mortal worlds, but Jason knew he had never actually been to the mortal world, so there was some doubt about the accuracy.
Still, it was the best guess he had. By that point, he could not remember his death, which was something he was grateful for. But he did remember his love of reading.
His role as a knight wasn't as luxurious or as fulfilling as he thought it would be. Jason was low-ranking, with no money, no connections, and no territory to support him; he was only selected for his impressive display of combat knowledge. He figured he would at least be posted guarding a border, or even standing guard at a gate, from his time as Robin, but instead Jason was assigned manual labor alongside the castle stablehand, despite outranking him.
His roommates were in the same boat, as they were all as poor as he was, even if he was the only unclaimed ghost. One was a gardener, the other worked shifts in the laundry house, and the last was the library aide. Jason burned with jealousy over the library assignment, especially when the other knight didn't value books as he should. But at least the ghost was willing to bring Jason something to read, after catching on to his jealousy.
"Rare that," Piebs mumbled
"What?" Jason grouched back. Piebs was the one who worked in the laundryhouse and treated Jason the worst for his unclaimed status.
"Not often do you see someone who can read." Piebs shrugged, uncaring of Jason's glowing green eyes alight with rage. "Not just the Unclaimed. Most territories ghosts can't. Not unless your parents are nobles, were mortal once, or if one of those wandering ghosts comes through after a trip in the mortal world."
"Jason was a mortal once," Vredoct called out. The anthropomorphic dragon pulled his shirt over his head, getting it caught a bit on his spikes. Jason looks away, blushing slightly. The Realms was an odd place, and interspecies relationships were the norm, but he still found it a bit odd how he could find a dragon attractive. It must be the voice. Vredoct had a seductive voice, smooth, deep, and always slightly amused, speaking in a way that rang true to his noble status despite being the sixteenth son of a poor baron. "He's a new arrival, remember? Most mortals are taught to read from a young age."
"Oh, here we go again. Mr. Expert in Mortal lands. Are you going to calculate how long it's been since my mother died next and the year it's now in her past world?" The final roommate, Bor, cut in, waving his claws around in a mockery of Vredoct's accent. He was a gardener because his territory fell more into the plant-life section of the Realms. He was the son of a Past Mortal Ghost, which wasn't rare, but everyone loved talking about the mortal world. Jason would compare it to asking an astronaut about the moon who's walked on.
"Depends." Vredoct laughed, shaking his long red hair out of his face. "Where did she form, what species is she, and what is the size of her core output?"
Jason ignored the argument that followed, flipping the book back to the front. There he found the same name that had been inside every book he'd requested from Vredoct.
Danny Fenton.
He wonders if he will ever meet the ghost that shares the same interests as him. He had found notes on paper stuck between the book's pages, where Fenton had written out thoughts and comments on the book. Jason appreciated that he didn't actually write in the books.
A year later, Jason has moved up from stablehand. Vredoct had moved back home. His father had arranged a marriage for him that would bring the house some much-needed money, and the dragon had been quick to mention that Jason could read and was perfect to replace him.
He was overjoyed to no longer be shoveling horse manure and now shelving books that were from the largest library he's ever seen. Jason could spend all eternity here, since books were gathered from the start of all time, and varied from genres, cultures, and even some came from the mortal world.
He also met Danny Fenton. He was an aide who worked at the King's office, coming through the library to pick up references for the King. Danny and Jason were closer in age. He thought he wouldn't age while in the Realms, but thanks to his Unclaimed status, he was able to age, and the knowledge did freak him out a little.
Though it did mean dating wouldn't be as weird. Jason was glad because it meant he could flirt with Danny without finding it weird. Danny was also an Unclaimed ghost, which made icebreakers very easy, especially when they realized they were from the same mortal world, the same country, and the same time; the only difference was that Jason grew up in a different state than Danny.
It became a habit for the two to chatter for as long as they could between one browsing for books and the other shelving them. They find little corners to speak, usually about thier lives, the things they missed from Earth, and whatever they wanted in between. Those short conversations became the highlight of his day.
Jason already found himself turning his head whenever the door opened.
Jason is sitting on a bed, nervously looking over his shoulder at Danny's slumbering form. It's been three years since his death; he would be eighteen, and he has grown to that age. He had taken the casual flirting in the library to another level, and he didn't mean inviting Danny to watch him at mandatory knight training.
That was the date that showed how serious they were. Most knights who had partners made things official at the mandatory training days, where those who were given jobs that weren't the typical position of a knight could show off.
He had done something different with Danny. It wasn't that Jason didn't want anything serious; he just didn't think the timing was right. He couldn't lie that the idea of someday making it back to Gotham didn't linger in his mind, but much like reaching the moon without a rocket ship, it was a far-off dream.
Just not one he was ready to wake up from.
Danny seemed alright with that, because his own role in the King's court was daunting and time-consuming. He admitted that he just wouldn't have the time to be a boyfriend. The most that they could be was lovers with no strings attached.
He had allowed the ghost to seduce him and bring him back to his room. The night before, Jason had been preoccupied and hadn't taken in his surroundings, but in the morning he noticed things he had missed.
Danny didn't live in servant chambers. He had a noble's room. Jason could tell that much by the sigils of the King placed everywhere. He wasn't just an aide in the King's office; Danny was likely even part of the royal family.
And Jason had just accepted being in a purely adult relationship with him.
"Today was exhausting," Danny complains, pressing his face into Jason's lap. The two are in thier private room, having requested it after a year of their no-strings relationship, which was full of so many strings that Jason could have opened a yarn store.
He didn't mean for that to happen, but at least Danny also made the mistake. They held hands in the hallway, spent lunch breaks together, went on dates in and out of the castle when thier schedules aligned, and both were exclusive with one another despite having agreed they didn't have to.
Honestly, the whole castle knew that Jason was Danny's boyfriend long before they decided to be official. Rumors started up fast, some speculating that a noble like Danny was only playing with an Unclaimed, while others whispered that it was an ambitious Unclaimed attempting to move up in the world by any means necessary.
It was always fun to watch Danny crush those gossip mongers by confronting them and loudly declaring himself an Unclaimed as well. Not that it helped much since everyone had this fixed idea that an Unclaimed could never be a noble, which was what Danny obviously was.
Jason didn't know Danny's official ranking. No one did.
His boyfriend had high clearance and moved through the inner castle where few were allowed in, but he wasn't allowed to talk about it. Still, he chose to give up his far subpar lodging to move in with Jason, who was able to move up in rank and was now back on the field fighting. He will be honest, he missed the library, but it was nicer to work as an actual knight because he had more privileges and could stand next to Danny better.
He was now part of the strong squad of the Royal Guard. Jason was only a few months away from being assigned as a private guard to a high-ranking noble. He'll be someone important again.
"The council on your ass again?" Jason asked, threading his hand through Danny's white glowing hair. His lover makes a small purr, letting him know that Jason is doing the right thing to comfort him
"I sometimes wish I could poke those floating eyes. Throw some sand into them." Danny groans, and Jason laughs
"Careful. You might be marked for high treason. The King adores those Observants"
Danny turned to stare up at him with one eye, a complex emotion swirling in his iris before he laughed. "The King does not."
Danny looks up from his desk, a laugh bubbling from his lips. "My dashing, brave, and handsome knight! Why are you bowing like a regular knight? You are a noble now, darling"
Jason is still bent down, but he allows his eyes to look at his lover, who always finds it amusing that he has taken his assignment as the King's guard so seriously.
He had no idea that his lover was the actual ruler he had been trying to impress since he found himself on the castle grounds, but in high sight, he should have noticed. No one told Danny no.
No request was ever denied, no matter how out of policy it was. Instead, Danny had ensured he rose quickly through the ranks, not allowing discrimination against Unclaimed ghosts to get in his way. It was a little-known fact that the Ghost King was sensed but rarely seen, because he powered the entire Realms, ruling over it like an unseen god.
Only the most trusted of subjects knew the face of the King. And Jason was the only one who knew the King in private moments.
He was the royal guard to the Ghost King, who was also his lover for the past two years. After five long years of death, Jason was finally happy to be a ghost and accepted his place in his reality
He was brought back to life the day after proposing to Danny
The memories settled just as Danny stepped into the mortal world, smiling at him through some tears. Jason feels joy that he hadn't felt since he was brought back to life bloom in his chest.
As if someone had given him the other part of his missing soul back
Still waiting for the Pretty Alpha and plain omega but your health comes first. Get well soon dear author! 🙇
Danny opens his eyes at five in the morning. He almost rolls out of bed to start working on his dough, but then he remembers he closed down his shop. He doesn't have to make donuts anymore, but it's hard to remember sometimes when his body wakes up on its own like this.
An overwhelming sense of drowsiness hits him then, and Danny wants nothing more than to close his eyes and go back to sleep. He really does, but he can't find a comfortable position, not on his back like this.
He wants to roll onto his stomach- that's how he always sleeps- but that would be impossible in his current condition. As if sensing that Danny is thinking about him, the baby moves, pressing on his bladder. He groans, one hand on his stomach, as the baby suddenly develops an interest in kickboxing based on how fast he's kicking and shifting.
"Alright. Alright" Danny grumbles, shifting until he is at the edge of his bed. He slips on his slippers, smiling a little when they let out a squeak. They're not his, but rather something he stole from Susie. She had a fondness for anything funny-shaped, so she had to pick the only slippers that looked like rubber ducks and squeaked like them, too, when they went shopping.
Danny had a fondness for stealing items from those he loved. He liked building a nest that wasn't the average kind, because Danny hated being surrounded, so instead, his room was his entire nest. Every inch was covered in fluffy items and comfortable materials, and it carried the scent of someone he loved. He always replaced what he stole, so no one ever got mad. He thinks it helped that he was a pregnant omega, which made it seem like he wanted to build a nest, a necessity.
His parents were happy to come over with blankets and even his mom's favorite sofa couch, the large one he used to snuggle into when he first presented. Jazz brought over pillows, including her most trusted striped teal-and-white body pillow, and her favorite soft pair of pajamas that Danny wore for the first few months of his pregnancy.
Tucker sent over teddy bears he collected throughout his life. Unlike Dash, who was ashamed of them, Tucker proudly displayed his collection in the room, then at home after he moved out, always looking for ones dressed in funny outfits or customized for whatever event he wanted. Sam went out of her way to purchase him new furniture, replacing all the metal pieces Danny originally owned with a sweet, rosewood-smelling bedroom set.
It reminded him of her home near Yellowstone, where she was living her dream of studying botany while Tucker was on the other side of the country working with NASA. Shockingly enough, Danny wasn't as jealous as he thought he would be when Tucker told him. He was so happy with his donut shop and his independence by the warm coast that he couldn't find any reason to be jealous.
And now that was all gone.
The baby kicks hard on his bladder, making Danny wince. "Yeah, I know. I need to go to the bathroom."
He opens the door to his bedroom, walking by Susie, who is already dressed for her shift at a local cafe. She was the one keeping them afloat financially after the money his parents and Sam had lent him ran out. "Morning, Danny!"
"Morning." He mutters, rubbing at his eyes. He wobbles a little towards the last door of thier small apartment. It's a two-bedroom, one-bathroom, but it's smaller than his old home above his donut shop.
"I'm going to an interview later today for that secretary position at Disco Insurance," Susie calls over her shoulder while putting on her earrings. She always leaves them by the key bowl so she can use the hallway mirror to adjust the dangling gummy bears to face the right way. It's the part of a set her brother got her before he was murdered. "I'll pick up pizza on the way back!"
"Can you also get ice cream?" Danny yells back right.
"You got it!"
Danny smiles at her cheerful twirl that she does just as she finishes putting in her gummy bears. She matched them to the green stones she has on the curve of her ear.
"Have a good day!"
"You too!" She sings before slipping out the door.
"Yeah." Danny mutters, "Yeah, I'll have a wonderful day. Just being here."
He slips into the bathroom, doing his business so the baby can stop trying to make him explode. Once he's done, Danny washes his hands, then splashes cold water on his face. He tries to smile at his reflection, but it falls flat.
Suddenly, tears well in his eyes as sadness so strong ran through his entire body. He's sobbing while leaning against the sink, pressing a hand against his mouth to muffle his cries even if he's the only one home.
The baby chooses that moment to move, shifting so he's on the lower side of Danny's left, and it makes no sense; it's not even the right motion, but somehow he gets the feeling his baby is hugging him. Danny laughs, drying his eyes as he places a hand over his stomach. "Yeah, sweeite, I'm okay. Papa is okay. I'm so excited to have you here."
He looks at his reflection again, and instead of seeing the man who lost his dream, on the run from an alpha that might kill him in order to silence him, and now working from home by answering the chat of a countrywide shipping company, he sees a father who gave everything up so his child could have a future.
"Almost." He tells his belly. "Only two more months and you're here. We're all so excited to meet you."
His baby bumps his hand, and Danny smiles warmly, "I'm the most excited"
"Wow, you have such a beautiful omega! He's going to be a real heartbreaker," Danny's smile strains as the woman coos at his son. The toddler wasn't paying attention to the adults, far too focused on rolling his toy car on his stroller table and drinking his juice.
"He hasn't presented yet," Danny manages to say, hoping his tone wasn't as tense as he felt. "Kids don't present until they're ten or tweleve"
"Oh, but we already know what he is." She dismisses, and Danny wants nothing more than to punch her in the face.
"No. We do not." He grabs the handles from the strollers, yanking his kid back and away from her. She's a beta, but Danny is the last person to judge someone based on how they behave due to presentations. He walks away from her as fast as he can, anger and slight disgust pooling in his stomach, ignoring her offended huff.
"Slide. Slide. Slide" Sammy- his son named after Susie's late brother- demanded the moment Danny speed walked the playground. He relaxes at his baby's voice and stops, just at the edge of the sandlot. His son is wiggling about, trying to slide out of his seat, and were it not for the seat belt, Danny is pretty sure the little bugger would have escaped already. Ever since he learned how to scrim and wiggle, putting the kid in a seat has been a nightmare. Sammy hated his car seat the most.
"One second and we can get you to the slide," Danny tells him as Sammy starts thrashing, little face scrumbling into a familiar pout that would lead to demonic screaming if left alone for too long. Not that anyone who didn't know Sammy would suspect a sound like that to come from such an angelic face.
His son is pretty, and that wasn't just his Omega pride talking.
Nine months in my womb making me suffer, Danny thinks, annoyed as Sammy's slightly wavy hair falls into his eyes, making his pout extra adorable. And you came out looking exactly like your father.
Sammy Fenton was a miniature version of Timothy Drake, and that was a problem Danny would one day have to deal with. Susie was right about that.
They couldn't be in hiding forever. Drake would find them, but he would have to learn to kill something that was already dead before they could have his son.
It's why the two had moved when Sammy was born. It was best to get away from the hospital that helped him with the delivery, and Susie found a new place in the southwest, somewhere nearly deserted. It was dry, it was windy, there was nothing to do in town, and they had to drive thirty minutes away before they could even do something as basic as grocery shopping.
And apparently, the people here were weird about his kid's presentation status despite it being a good decade before his secondary gender kicks in. The good news was that they would be moving again soon, just after Sammy turned five, to hopefully throw off any trail that Drake-Wayne may follow.
If all went well, that would be the last move, and despite not knowing where they were landing, Danny was going to finally reopen his donut shop. Susie finished her online degree, which meant she could no longer comfortably work from home, and as long as she was near Sammy, Danny didn't have to worry about babysitters. Plus, he had savings from selling his first shop and from paying back the loans his friends and family had given him.
"Slide! Slide!" Sammy giggles as Danny hosts him on top of it. He beams at his one-and-a-half-year-old.
"Again?" He asks even as the toddler wiggles around, already trying to go back up.
Danny steps back, admiring the new sign over his front. Susie, Sammy, and he had just finished setting up everything for thier grand opening, with the sign being the only thing missing.
It had been backordered for one reason or another, and Danny was afraid his grand opening would be ruined without it, but, miraculously, it arrived early that morning. The men who brought it were quick to install it, with Danny putting the finishing touches on his indoor tables.
Sammy was running around in a little apron, carrying a tiny tray of mini donut samples he was most excited to hand out once they opened. Susie was behind the register, ensuring everything was in the system to make checkout easy.
Nothing could go wrong today.
They had settled on a new coast, not as bright or as colorful as the first store, but this one could be their forever home. With five years between the lawsuit and now, there was little to no chance Drake-Wayne would find them.
"All set," One of the men calls down. An alpha who's been extremely helpful in getting everything done. He takes off his cap, tilting it towards Danny, and it's his experience in the southwest that lets Danny know this man has ranch manners.
He's sweet, but despite his manners, his rugged good looks, and the obvious interest he regards Danny with, the omega is not looking to date. It's not easy being a single omega father, let alone one who's run a business on his own; he just can't add relationships to that.
"Thank you! I have a tip for you and a box of free donuts," Danny chirps, acting like he doesn't notice the way the man's eyes gleam as he and his partner climb down the ladder. "It looks perfect."
Danny's Dazzling Donuts seems to glow despite the words not having any lights whatsoever. He's so busy admiring the letters that he misses the way the alpha lingers, attempting to make the job last longer until his partner forces them to leave.
Danny does feel it when the alpha sends him a sad puppy-eyed look from the van, but he still refuses to turn. He checks his watch, gleeful that it's time.
They would be opening late today, and only today, to give the locals a chance to try their donuts before battling it out with other early businesses. He found that the tactic worked great with his old shop and wanted to give it a chance here.
At ten am on the dot, Danny enters his store and clicks on the glowing open sign. He takes a moment to breathe in the sweet smell of fresh donuts of various flavors before starting behind his counter.
"Is it time, Daddy?" Sammy hops off the little stool he was sitting on. He picks up his tray and proudly displays mini donuts decorated like his favorite TV show. Danny and Sammy had gotten up early to work on them together. They look lovely for the blue and orange dogs they are based on.
"Sure is. Remember our deal?" Danny crouches down so he can look into his son's eyes comfortably. Sammy's wide blue eyes sparkle, and Danny is hit once more by how adorable his son is.
Sammy was the prettiest kid on the block, and that wasn't just omega pride talking. His boy made everyone aw when they saw him, which is why he would be the perfect hook.
"Don't move away from the door and don't follow strangers!" Sammy hops in place, jostling the samples. "Don't worry, Daddy! I know the rules!
"Okay, have fun," Danny tells him, watching his sweet heart twist on his heel to run as fast as his tiny legs could take him. He slips through the glass door, making the bell above jingle. He stands at attention by the door, swinging his tiny head for any bystanders he can offer his wares to.
Danny can see him through the door and the large windows, so he's not too worried, but he still makes sure to keep the little one in sight. Not even a second later, a man in a suit walks by, typing away on his phone, while hiding from the bright sun under a parasol.
Sammy's head snaps to him as he straightens out his back and likely puts on his strongest puppy dog eyes. His son realized he could get Susie, Danny, Jazz, and Jack to do whatever he wanted a while back and now uses them on any unsuspecting adult.
He took five steps away from the door in order to block the man's path, holding up his little tray. Danny smirks when the man doesn't seem to be able to resist taking on, nor does he seem able to pull his hand back when Sammy launches onto it and starts yanking him towards the shop.
The bell rings as his son manhandles the stronger inside with a cheerful "Welcome!"
Danny takes that as his cue to smile and stop leaning on the counter. "Welcome to Danny Dazzling Donuts-"
His words cut off in his throat when the parasol is tilted upwards, and he can see the face of the stranger. His heart drops from his chest to somewhere near his ankles. He hears Susie gasp in horror, while Sammy's excitement melts into confusion as he senses the change among the employees, but Danny can't find it in himself to reassure his child.
Not when he's staring at that face.
It's the same as his son's.
Timothy Drake-Wayne stares back at Danny in utter bewilderment, his hand still wrapped in his son's fingers. A bitter thought flies through Danny's otherwise stunned mind.
Steph waking up in a cold sweat: What?! Where am I?
Danny: Oh, hey, you're awake.
Steph: Who are you? Why are there chains on my ankles?
Danny: Whoa! I didn't put them on you! I got them too, see?
Steph: What in the holy name of purple is going on here?!
Danny: Good news, we are unharmed. We have food, water, and shelter. Bad news: we're in a zoo run by a alien obsessed with collecting every form of life across the Infinite Realms.
Steph: ....
Danny: Even more bad news, I was captured first, and once they realized I was male they went out looking for a female human to.. Um, start a breeding program.
Steph:....
Danny: Don't worry! I'm working on a escape plan and-
Steph: *standing up with her chains slipping off. She used a laser ring to burn them off*
Danny: Wha-
Steph running and sliding towards him burning his chains: It's alright. I got you. You're going to be safe.
Danny blushing: Um? I- wow-okay?
Steph: Stay behind me. *ripping panel off the wall to hack alien system*
Danny: *fans his face* Oh my.
Steph: I got the door. But it looks like we have company.
Danny: No worries I can-
Steph: *Round house kicking alien one and shadow boxing Alien two*
Dick: That's some pretty heavy swearing from you B. Something wrong?
Bruce: Something is very wrong. The most dangerous man I have ever faced is making his way to the front door.
Dick alarmed: What?
Bruce, staring at the monitors: We don't have time to evacuate. I'm only grateful that the rest of my children are out today. They will live on without us.
Dick: The hell do you mean "Live on without us?" I am not part of the us! I want to live!
Bruce: There is nothing you can do, champ. We can not win against this man.
Dick: Bruce, we've gone up against big odds before. We literally took on giants and fought alongside demi-gods.
Bruce: That was nothing compared to him.
Dick: Leapig Lizards Batman, who is he?!
Bruce fearfully: Daniel Fenton. He works for thr IRS
Dick:..... What.
Danny is knocking aggressively on the front door: BATMAN, PAY YOUR TAXES.
Dick: Are you....was this a joke? Were you messing with me? Alfred can you believe this man? *looks around* Alfred? Where did Alfred go?
Bruce: He's in the panic room. Sealed himself in the moment he saw who was on the monitor. Fenton is hunting him down, too.
*Throws half martian Danny au w/ dead serious at you and runs*
*extra points if he's related to J'ohn, I'm not picky but please grandpa J'ohn if you will*
- ✒️
"What do you mean?" Danny cut in, cutting off Frostbite's words.
Clockwork looked up from the magazine he was reading. Danny knows because he kept glancing at him throughout the appointment, waiting for answers to the questions Frostbite asked. It's not that Danny didn't know what to say; it just felt like whenever he had a medical appointment, all knowledge of his own body vanished from his mind.
It happened a lot whenever his mom went with him to the human doctor, too. Clockwork wasn't like his mom, who was more than happy to answer for him. The time being, just waved a hand at Danny dismissively when Frostbite started with "so what brings you in today?" and pulled out a magazine, doing a cover-story exclusive with Speed Force on the topic: The shocking truth of time-altering with mortals. Clockwork had been looking forward to this issue for weeks.
He hadn't resurface from between the pages as Danny waited in silence before he realized Clockwork was expecting Danny to speak. He fumbled at first, but over the course of the appointment, he relaxed enough to give proper answers instead of hesitant, almost doubtful one-word replies.
This was just to establish Frostbite as his main provider as his Ghost Doctor, though Frostbite preferred to be called a Healer, and everything was going well. They drew some ectoplasm a few days before his actual appointment to run some tests, and everything looked good.
Until Frostbite was reading the results towards the end of thier appointment, and the yeti started discussing his genetics.
"What do you mean?" Danny repeats, blinking owlishly as Frostbite flips to the last page on his clipboard. "I'm fully human-er as human as a Halfa can be."
"Well, there is no question about your living and dead stage, but according to our lab results, you are not only human," Frostbite explained, handing over the clipboard to Danny. There are a lot of words and numbers that he doesn't understand, mostly because Danny was pretty sure he was fighting a persistent ghost that entire unit in biology and missed most of the lessons. He did, however, understand the conclusion part.
Half Earthling. Half Martian.
Martian.
Frostbite thought he was part Martian.
"This is wrong," Danny tells the yeti. He starts swinging his legs from where they dangled over the edge of the examination table. The paper that was laid over the padding wrinkled loudly with his movement, belying how nervous he was. "I'm not adopted, and both my parents are full humans."
"Perhaps your parents aren't aware they are martian." Frostbite offers gently. He places one large paw on his shoulder, gently squeezing Danny as if to offer him strength. "Or despite you not being one of theirs by blood, they always saw you as thier son and saw no reason-"
"Oh, this was due to your accident in the Fenton Portal. Your DNA was spliced with the floating Martian DNA, as that was during the Martian mass extinction. Since there was so much death at once, it was slower changing into ectoplasm and was stuck between worlds when you punched a hole between the Realms and the mortal plane," Clockwork explained, reading over Danny's shoulder in his child form. He twirls his staff at his side, as if he is preparing to lead a marching band, before he swings it towards a wall.
In an instant, a large pocket watch zaps into existence. It flips open, its arms twirling rapidly, until the watch's face vanishes and an image of Danny's accident appears. He watches himself carefully slip on the hamate suit and take a few steps into the portal. Sam and Tucker were in the right corner of the scene, exactly as he remembered it, even the detail of Sam holding her camera ready to snap a picture of the dare that forever changed his life.
He even sees himself accidentally pressing the button that turned on the machine- a fault in the design by his father, no doubt- and as he is screaming while his body is electrocuted, the camera zooms into him. Suddenly, they see his DNA floating in place until a mush of green goo wraps itself around the strands, shifting them until the goo becomes part of the genetic makeup.
Danny's jaw dropped even as Frostbite let out a hum of intrigue.
"Fascinating. This type of genetic editing has never been seen before. It's seamless, with no trace of anyone making alterations." The yeti points to a few parts of his DNA, where the added green rests comfortably. "I can even see how the Martian part enhanced your basic three."
"Basic three?" Danny repeats in a daze.
"Intangibility, Invisability and flight," Frostbite explains, waving one large claw towards a poster on the other side of the room. On it is information about the Basic Three, along with drawn examples, facts, and cautionary symptoms that something may be wrong if a ghost experiences them while performing the Basic Three.
"Every aspiration can do these three, but usually they can't do two of them at the same time, much less three, unlike you. There are a few exceptions, but they can only do it for a little while before exhaustion forces them to stop. Flight is the most common and the least energy-wasting, but every ghost has a preferred ability they call upon. Think of it like this: every human has the ability to sing, but not the skill to be a good singer. You are a triple threat, so to speak. I always assumed it was because you are still alive, and thus power your abilities with living energy instead of pure ectoplasm, but it seems it's because of your martian dna."
Danny's head is spinning. "So what you're saying is, my ghost powers aren't strong because I'm a Halfa, but because I'm part martian?"
"Not exactly." Clockwork cuts in again, now as an old man. He points one trembling finger towards the chart in Danny's slack hold. "Your basic three are boosted, but everything else? That's because you're a Halfa. And by the looks of it, you didn't get too much from your third parent-"
"Third parent!?" Danny yips, springs up from the table. He starts pacing in place, forcing Frostbite to scramble towards the room's final wall to avoid colliding with him. This places him in the perfect place to catch the clipboard that goes flying out of Danny's hold as the boy starts waving his arms around like a manic. "I have three parents!?"
"Biologically speaking, yes." Frostbite flips through a few pages, eyes moving rapidly along the report. "You're what is scientifically known as a Core Chimera."
"Core chimera?"
"It's someone whose biological parents are more than two people, usually caused by the cores expanding and pulsing during a mating, especially when-"
Danny holds up a hand. "Stop, I don't want to know how a Core Chimera is made."
"Why? It's perfectly natural."
"He's at a special age," Clockworks chuckles, now a middle-aged man. It makes him fold his arms and smirk at Danny, far more embarrassing than it needs to be. "Anything to do with mating makes him burst into giggles or makes him so embarrassed he has to curl up into a ball for a few minutes."
Frostbite smiles, shaking his horns fondly. "Youth."
"Indeed."
"Can we, please, focus on the matter at hand?" Danny grumbles, checks aflame. "So I have a third biological parent-"
"A father"
"Right, a second biological dad who I accidentally made into my biological dad when I was half killed between the living world and the dead world. This second dad is a Martian from Mars who, during a mass extinction on his planet, had his Martian DNA boost my basic ghost abilities, but nothing else that makes Phantom into such a powerhouse. "
Frostbite hums, clicking his tongue a bit as he flips through the last pages of the lab reports. "Yes. That's a good summary. The only other noteworthy thing I see here is the concerning amount of sugar in your diet. Does your family have a history of diabetes?"
"I normally answer no, but apparently there is a third option that might be yes. I can't ask him, though, because he's dead!" Danny snaps, pacing more aggressively now. "Is there something else I should know about this third parent?!"
"He's not dead." Clockwork twirls his staff again, like he was about to throw it into the air for a showy catch. He floats over the examination table, just slightly before the pocket watch, still displaying Danny's altered DNA. "He only nearly died. Well, legally speaking, he was dead for maybe four minutes before his wife managed to resuscitate him. They attempted to escape the planet together, but she succumbed to her own injuries just as they were entering Earth's atmosphere-"
"He's on Earth!?" Danny pounced on that workding like a lion on a wounded gizelle. "I can find him!?"
"He's on a Earth...." Clockworks starts hesitantly, his face melting into a child. It makes the time lord's uncertainty a little more poignant, and the urge to find his other father rises up a notch or two. Danny gives the floating child a stern frown, which only causes the great Clockwork to raise his hackles. "There is more than one Earth. There are multiple realities, infinite timelines, worlds far beyond-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know about the other dimensions. I visited a few." Danny cuts in, crossing his arms. "The real question is, are you going to help me met my other dad on this other Earth?"
"It's not recommended.....this Earth is out of my jurisdiction." Clockwork began, but Frostbite raised a hand, waiting to be called on. There was a weird dynamic between the two. Clockwork acted like the yeti was a normal healer who would be treating his self-proclaimed ward, while Frostbite saw the always changing time lord as an all-powerful ancient that needed complete respect or bad things would befall his people. Almost like a living (sort of speak) god.
It was odd because Danny once saw Clockwork try to eat cereal with his foot and ended up in feudal Japan when he lost his balance and fell through his time portals.
"If the timeline is outside your jurisdiction, could you not petition a visitor's pass under the Youth Protection Truce? I could write a healer's note stating that Danny must seek out his other father for biological-related worries." Frostbite offers. His head is dipped, as if he were unworthy of speaking directly to Clockwork. This means he misses the way Clockwork's jaw slacks, likely never thought of the option. He often forgets that Clockwork only seems all-knowing because he can peek into the living world's flow of time, witnessing everything that was, is, and will be.
That did not mean he could peek into the flow of time for the dead world. There he was, just as helpless to time as any other ghost was, but he at least had monitors that played everything in the living world that he watched endlessly.
It was so hard not to see Clockwork as a disaster shut in after living with him for the summer. His parents thought he was at space camp when, in reality, he was watching Clockwork smack himself with his own staff and trip over air. While floating in said air.
"I could....." Clockwork starts, his ghost glow brightening up with glee, "I could meet Speed Force."
Danny knows that Clockwork had some kind of celebrity crush on Speed Force, since the being was the current most famous time ghost and was all the rage with time-inclined individuals in the Realms. "Yeah, and I could meet my other father-"
"Shush, Danny. I have to draft a letter. A petition for traveling to Speed Force's timeline." Clockwork gushes while snapping his fingers, causing a quill and parchment to appear from thin air. "Do you think he'll let me shake his hand?"
"Clockwork, I'm having a crisis."
"Danny, I'm having a moment." Clockwork dips his quill into the ink. The sound of the tip scratching against the parchment is nearly drowned by the time lord's words, "Don't ruin this for me, or I'm going to make you look stupid in front of Damian. He'll always think of you as the Hotdog Cart guy and not in a good way."
Used to his guardian randomly using references from his future, Danny rolls his eyes. He mentally slots the name away, assuming this Damian is going to be someone that Danny wants to impress as he turns to Frostbite. "What biological-related worries do you mean?"
"Nothing too serious, but if you are part martian, there is a chance that you may have some biological aspects that you may be unaware of. For example, I heard that Martians are weak to fire and can't even stand near it, which could explain why you developed an ice core. Now this is just a rumor, but if fire can cause such a reaction in living beings, I fear being around a flame, even something as harmless as a campfire, it may cause your core to melt." Frostbite shakes his head at Danny's horrified round eyes. "I am exaggerating, of course, but it's a good enough excuse to have you enter the other timeline, no?"
"Yeah, okay. I say we do this." Danny sighs. "I want to meet my other Father. What's his name?"
Clockwork glances up from his letter, his red eyes sparkling. "J'onn J'onzz. He believes he is the last of his kind, but a few survivors managed to hide on Mars, including his sister and her children. We can say you were born during J'onn's grief-driven binge of alcohol and human women that he drowned himself in when he first got to Earth. You were a normal boy in the foster system who wanted to send a message to Mars for a science project, and one of your "cousins" picked up the signal, starting a penpal system that eventually led to a conversation about biological differences, making you think you might be a Martian yourself. I'll ask Speed Force to make the proper paper trails and make our lie solid enough that no one will know it's false."
"Why do we need to lie about that?"
"That world is not ready to learn about different timelines. Not yet." Clockwork waves a hand. "It plays a big part in your love story with Damian."
"Who the hell is Damian!?"
"Watch your tone. You don't want to lose him. He's rich."
Frostbite looks between the two nervously as Danny throws his hands into the air with a huff. "Does he often speak of the future?"
"All the time. He thinks spoilers are funny when they really ruin all the excitement!"
Clockwork's eyes gleam. "Oh, there will be excitement, alright. And a lot of innocent hot dogs will forever be ruined."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we need to pay for this healer visit, then stop by the Truce center to get our visitors' passes processed. We're going on a life-changing adventure, baby!" Clockwork cheered, shifting into a teenager- he rarely used this form, but when he did, Danny knew he was going to have to work as the voice of reason for an annoying amount of time. "We're going to pose as runaway orphans on a quest for you to find your dad and for me to shake the hand of the most attractive time lord! Frostbite!"
The Yeti startles at the use of his name, twisting into a deep bow before Clockwork. "Yes, my lord?"
"Do you accept credit?"
"I do."
"Excellent, for I have forgotten my wallet." Clockwork reaches inside his chest, pulling out a plastic card and waving it around. "This is why we have the emergency credit card!"
Danny put his head into his hand. "This is going to be a long summer."
Alfred: And this is the main sitting room. It's the one the family uses most, so always make sure to keep blankets and slippers in this cabinet.
Danny: Yes, sir.
Alfred: It helps to drop off a plate of snacks on Fridays. The children love it.
Danny: Are there any dietary restrictions I should know about?
Alfred: Master Tim is allergic to shellfish, and Master Damian is lactose intolerant. Miss Cass tends to avoid gluten-
Bruce: Ugh? Alfred who is this?
Alfred: Oh, Master Bruce. I didn't see you there. This is Daniel Fenton. My great-grandson.
Bruce: I- your what?
Alfred: My great-grandson. You remember my daughter, right? She had a child when she was fifteen that I never knew about. She put the girl up for adoption under my ex-wife's insistence. That child was Madeline, who went on to have children of her own. Daniel, here, is her youngest.
Bruce: I see. It's wonderful to meet you, Daniel.
Danny: You can call me Danny. Thank you for letting me stay here.
Bruce: Oh, of course. *shooting Alfred a confused look*
Alfred: Danny is a a situation green four.
Danny: I'm a what? What does that mean?
Bruce: You're part of this household now. That's what that means. Want me to show you around?
Danny: ugh, no, Great-Grandfather is already doing that.
Bruce: Alright! Have fun! I have some work to do but let me know if you need me. *walks away*
Danny: Did he seem nervous to you?
Alfred: No, he looks like that all the time. Master Bruce has a reputation you can say.
Danny heard everything about airhead Brucie: I guess that makes sense.
Meanwhile in Bruce's office:
Bruce hiding under his desk calling Dick: I'm serious. Alfred called him a situation green four!
Dick: *horrified gasp* Are you safe?
Bruce: Probably. The boy is young. I think Alfred is going to sick him onto Tim or Duke.
Dick: B. Listen to me. Get out of there. Get out of there now. I'll warn Tim and Duke.
Bruce crying: I thought Alfred stopped trying to marry us off, and now he brought his own flesh and blood to trap us in marriage!
It starts with Superman. At first, no one noticed, because Clark is always surrounded by adoring fans whenever he takes the time to interact with the civilians. He's used to people crowding around, begging for photos, autographs, and even handing him gifts.
Clark follows Bruce's suggestion to avoid autographs but allows selfies and accepts gifts. He tries to say yes only to kids, though, because he has a soft spot for them and doesn't trust the adults. After a normal save- a school bus almost fell off the edge of a bridge after three tires popped and the driver lost control- he was once again surrounded by children begging for his attention.
Amid the chaos, Clark's arms were filled with gifts from well-meaning teens who talked over one another and clustered close. Everywhere he looked, there was a teen with bright eyes and a wide smile, many clutching thier phones for a photo or two. Clark allowed them close for about three minutes before he politely excused himself and flew away, ignoring their disappointment.
He checked every gift, high in the sky, making sure there was no tracking or dangerous item. Once they passed his checks, Clark flew to his apartment, making sure he wasn't followed. After touching up his latest story- writing was mostly editing, he found- he took a bath and got himself some dinner.
Only then, right before he was set to head off to bed, did Clark bother to go through the gifts. Most were drawings and handmade beaded bracelets that reminded him fondly of his own high school days. There was one Superman plushie that seemed handmade, which found its way to a shelf in his room, but the one gift that really stole the show was the very last one.
It was a scroll that, upon unrolling, melted Clark's heart. It was an ink painting of Superman saving an elderly couple. It was obviously from the fire a month ago at the Daily Planet, and the couple was someone very dear to the hero.
There, in bold, sharp black lines, was Clark carrying his Ma and Pa out of the fire, thier faces beaming with love. The artist made the artistic decision not to include the disaster he was rescuing them from, so the image depicted the hair midflight with his parents in each arm, the wing blowing thier hair and thier smiles wide and warm.
He would hang this in his fortress as soon as he flew by the farm to show his parents. He stared at it a little longer before rolling it up and hiding it in his closet behind a false wall.
Clark never suspected anything because there was a picture of Superman saving the Kents, taken by one Jimmy Olsen. He fell asleep that night thinking about how much his family would love it.
That was until the monthly Justice League meeting, where the painting came up in casual conversation after it concluded and members were in the process of leaving. Barry was just retelling his most daring rescue of a group of high schoolers at science camp, outrunning a flood to reach the children. He was also showered with gifts, but his favorite was the ink painting of him running with Iris in his arms from the time he got her out of a building with a bomb.
Clark doesn't normally interrupt a conversation- because his Pa raised him better than that- but he couldn't help it this time. "An ink painting? I got one of those from a teenager two weeks ago."
"I got one too," Hal yells from across the table. He's leaning his cheek back with his feet up. Clark knows Bruce is fighting every instinct in himself to not snap at Hal to take his feet off the table. "It was even in a fancy scroll."
"Mine too." Barry and Clark say at the same time. The three pause, exchanging confused looks. A throat clears on the other side of the room; the men turn to find Diana standing there holding a very familiar scroll.
It is the same fabric that Clark's was made of, the same dark material with the twisting green swirls around the painting. The painting itself was of Wonder Woman, sword held high above her, shield at her side, and right behind her, smiling upwards at her like the goddess she is, stands Steve Trevor.
Except Steve Trevor has been dead for over eight decades. There was no way a random high school had found a picture of him, because Diana had spent years looking for pictures of him and had only found two, both too blurry to really see his facial features. The government had destroyed nearly all records of him when Steve became a part of a secret task force in WWII and couldn't afford to have him linked back to the USA.
This meant the gift giver was someone who had gone out of their way to find Steve and knew that he was someone special to Wonder Woman. Which meant this person also knew that the people they had painted for the other members weren't a wonderful accident but a deliberate choice to use thier family members.
"This just became a risk to our loved ones," Diana announces, hand tight around the top of the scroll
Hal stopped rocking in his chair, swearing softly. "They painted my niece and nephew after I saved them from a fire. I did a few loops and tricks in the air to help calm them down, so a lot of photos of us were taken. I assumed that the artist just used one as a reference. I had no idea that....."
His words fade, but no one calls him out on it. Clark's own heart was hammering in his chest, worry and anxiety licking at his stomach in a nauseating manner. The knowledge that someone out there knew his parents and was even bold enough to taunt him by sending him a painting scared him more than he thought he was capable of feeling.
The four gathered around, retelling how they received their gifts and comparing notes for any similarities. The one thing that stood out was that the scroll was always dropped off when a group of teenagers was nearby, meaning the one behind it was either using teenagers or was a teenager themselves.
"Do you think we are the only ones being targeted?" Clark questions while tapping his arm. "Does anyone else in the League receive them?"
"I'll send out a message," Barry offers, typing away on his tablet. A beep goes off on everyone's communicators, reading out the message in code and calling all members back for an emergency briefing. "We need to make it quick. I don't like leaving Iris alone now that I know someone knows about her."
Turns out every one of the main seven had received a scroll, which made everyone uneasy. Almost everyone.
"Did you not like them?" Bruce doesn't pout, but it's the closest any of them have ever seen him get to. "He worked really hard on them."
"He? Batman, do you know who sent these?"
The Dark Knight leans back in his seat, as stoic as the day they met him, but everyone knows him well enough to see the emotions just beneath his skin. Bruce was preening.
"My son painted those."
"Robin?" Clark frowns. "Why did he not just give it to us at the Watch Tower?"
"No. My other son. He doesn't know he's my son, but I know that he's my son, and I'm watching him go out in the world and act like he's not my son."
"Hold on." Barry holds up an arm. "I got confused. Which Robin are we talking about?"
"None."
".....Then how is he your son?"
"He's my biological child, whom I had during a fling with his parents during thier visit to the Tower of London."
"Parent s. As in plural?" Hal cuts in, eyebrows raised.
"Yes." Bruce nods once, sharply, decisively. And because they know him so well, smugly, "They're ghost hunters."
"Right, so your biological son, who doesn't know he's yours because he was raised by the two-thirds of your threesome, painted pictures of our family members and gave them to us as gifts." Oliver summarized, with confusion clearly coloring his words. "Does that mean he knows our secret identities?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell him?" Clark asks
"No."
"Then how does he know?"
Bruce paused for a single second before he shrugged. "He takes after me. He painted one for me as well"
They watch the man eagerly pull a scroll from its strap on his utility belt, letting it roll open on its own. It's an awe-inspiring painting of Batman mid-swing over the city of Gotham, with the moon behind him. It has bold, thick lines that create a contrast with the white fabric.
It is a true masterpiece....were it not for the giant world written across the scroll.
"It says menace."
"Yes. He does not like Batman"
Diana very delicately stepped closer, placing one comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder. "He'll come around."
"He will not. He thinks Batman is a ghost and has attempted to kill me multiple times. He won't let me close enough to talk"
There is another heavier pause before Clark stands. "All in favor of helping Batman with his child, say aye."
"Aye." The word is echoed by six different voices.
Bruce rolls up his scroll. "That's nice."
"Don't worry, Batman. How hard can it be to track down an ink artist?"
Two years later, Clark is sobbing into his hands in the conference room that has been covered inch by inch with Ink paintings. Every new piece is a new taunt. A reminder that for all his superpowers, he had nothing on the mind of a very determined and petty Wayne. "Where is he? Where is that boy?"
"What is he!? A ghost!?" Hal flings blurry photos over the table, each with a teenage boy. He's never in focus, rarely facing the camera, and the only thing clear about him is his bright green eyes, which almost seem to glow. "How can none of us get a good picture of him!?
Bruce turns from where he's admiring his son's latest work. "Wait a minute. You might be on to something."
I will be far less updating this account life really just got busy and I really lack the creative shit here guys.
…
Gotham was a city that could never be fully protected. No matter how hard Batman and the other vigilantes tried, there was always one place they couldn’t reach in time. Every year, they improved better technology, better systems, more allies but it was never enough. There was always another alley, another street, another life slipping through the cracks. They had tried focusing on one place at a time, like how Jason Todd handled Crime Alley, turning it into something controlled and stable. But Gotham didn’t stay quiet. Something worse always pulled them away. Only Crime Alley held together, and only because Jason treated it like a system instead of a mission. The rest of the city remained broken.
That was how the cult began.
At first, it was nothing. Gotham always had cults formed by people broken by fear, loss, or desperation looking for something to hold onto. Most faded. Some were shut down. This one didn’t disappear. It grew. And worse it worked. People who joined got better. The sick were healed. Victims of Scarecrow’s toxin and Joker’s venom recovered completely. The homeless found homes. The starving were fed. It looked like a miracle, but Gotham did not trust miracles.
Even Crime Alley began to thin. Red Hood noticed it first as his people weren’t being forced out. They were leaving by choice. Tim Drake followed the rumors but found only fragments an inner circle, priests, and a leader who could give people what they needed. Every member wore a green star. Tracking them failed. Surveillance broke. Every move the Batfamily made seemed anticipated.
Then the Joker was found he was buried, decayed beyond recognition, confirmed only through dental records and DNA. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy heard it through Ivy’s plants, which had fed on something unnaturally strong. At the same time, cult members whispered that one of their priests had done it.
That was enough to act.
Tim went undercover as Alvin Draper. Jason followed with a simple Tason Austein. They waited, watched, and endured. The cult did not recruit directly. It waited for people to come willingly. After a week, someone finally approached them.
Pauline.
She looked calm, kind, and completely sure of herself. Her green star was more detailed, brighter than the others. She offered them something simple a place where they mattered. They accepted.
She led them underground.
What they found shouldn’t have existed. A city beneath Gotham, full of life. People moved without fear. Children laughed. Plants thrived without sunlight. It was peaceful in a way Gotham never was. Pauline said they were lucky it was a day of worship. She brought them to a wide square where everyone gathered in a circle before leaving them with a man named Philip and joining a group in star-patterned cloaks.
Philip explained everything eagerly. Pauline was a priest. The others entering were high priests. Above them all was their leader.
Everyone bowed.
Tim and Jason followed, watching.
One of the high priests revealed a large container filled with glowing Lazarus water—brighter, purer than anything they had seen.
Then they saw him.
A child sat at the center. No older than six. White hair. Bright green eyes wearing clothes fr bigger to him as his head is adorned by a brown and string of jewels. The Lazarus water moved around him like it belonged to him.
Philip whispered in awe, calling him their lord.
And for the first time, both vigilantes understood this was no longer just a cult.
…
Far from Gotham, in what used to be Amity Park, everything had ended in a single moment.
The secret of Danny Fenton had never truly been hidden. His friends knew. His family suspected. Even their local conspiracy theorist also knew, twisting their strange ideas just enough to protect the truth without realizing it.
Life had gone on despite ghost attacks, despite danger, despite everything.
Until the day it didn’t.
It started as something normal a parent-teacher conference at Casper High. Because of the constant ghost attacks, meetings like that had become more common, but people still tried to live normally. Parents left one by one, leaving all students behind, talking, waiting. Jazz Fenton stood with Mr. Lancer, discussing Danny’s grades.
Then everything changed.
A thin mist slipped from Danny’s mouth, faint but urgent. He reacted instantly, transforming into Danny Phantom. Jazz barely had time to react before a massive explosion shook the school.
The world went silent.
Darkness followed.
The last thing Jazz saw before losing consciousness was a faint green shield surrounding the entire building.
When she woke, everything was gone.
No sky. No city. No world.
Just darkness.
Students panicked, calling for Danny. Sam Manson and Tucker Foley searched until they heard something small a soft, upset sound.
They found him.
A toddler.
White-haired, glowing faintly green, still in Phantom form.
Danny.
Before anyone could process it, Clockwork appeared and explained everything. The Guys in White and the Fenton parents had created a weapon meant to destroy the Ghost Zone. It went off.
It destroyed everything.
Danny had saved them, but it cost him. His power collapsed. His core reset.
Now he was stuck like this.
Small.
Fragile.
Annoyingly easy to pick up.
Time passed. They survived. They built something new in the empty world. But Danny didn’t grow. Without ectoplasm, he stayed the same until one moment changed everything.
It happened by accident.
One of the students from a different grade tired, stressed, and clearly not thinking straight looked at Danny’s glowing green eyes and joked about it. They clasped their hands dramatically and muttered a half-serious, half-sarcastic “please fix the electricity as Casper’s, oh tiny glowing overlord,” mostly because humor was easier than breaking down.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then Danny glowed brighter.
Very slightly.
Everyone froze.
The person immediately panicked and tried to take it back, insisting it was a joke, absolutely a joke, not a real prayer, definitely not trying to start anything weird—
But it worked.
That was the problem.
They tested it again, more carefully this time. Real hope. Real emotion.
Danny changed again. Just a little, but enough to prove it.
That was when they understood.
He needed belief.
Emotion.
Connection.
Jazz didn’t like it. Not even a little. But they didn’t have a choice. If this was what it took to bring her brother, Amnity Park’s hero back, then they would do it.
They built a community.
They told people.
They gathered more.
They definitely did not call it a cult.
It became one anyway.
And at the center of it all sat a small, glowing child who had once been a hero, now unknowingly being powered by belief occasionally babbling, sometimes floating, and once accidentally turning someone’s broken shoe into something usable just because they asked nicely and really, really meant it.
…
PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
Danny is in Gotham (yes, that Gotham, different universe, long story) to finish his education before moving on with his life—or afterlife—and eventually ascending to High King status. It’s a good reveal AU. He still has his parents. He still has his friends. Clockwork just strongly suggested that if he wanted to rule the Infinite Realms one day, maybe he should get some cross-dimensional academic experience first.
So now he’s here.
The problem? Everyone is rich. Not “my dad owns a company” rich. More like “we have generational trauma and private islands” rich. Danny tries being friendly. Smiles. Makes conversation. Offers help with homework. It does absolutely nothing. These people only care about connections.
Which would be funny—if it weren’t so isolating—because they have no idea he is, objectively, the single most powerful networking opportunity in the multiverse.
So yeah. He’s a little lonely.
Enter Damian.
One of Damian’s brothers (who will not be named but absolutely thinks he’s hilarious) jokes that Damian has never had a normal civilian friendship in his life. That if he had to, he wouldn’t even know where to start. He offhandedly gestures at Danny like, there, that one looks harmless.
It’s a joke.
Unfortunately, Damian takes it as a challenge.
Not because Danny is a “target.” He isn’t. Damian just fully decides he will prove he can form a normal, healthy, civilian friendship. Out of spite.
There are misunderstandings, but somehow, despite everything, they start… getting along.
And Damian, internally victorious, decides to present Danny to his family as evidence that he can, in fact, maintain a normal friendship.
Danny is delightful.
He charms Alfred. He debates with Tim. He listens to Bruce. He somehow gets Jason to laugh. He and Dick vibe immediately. He treats Damian like an equal without even trying.
Bruce Wayne is an Omega, and like every Omega, he has a chance of being involved in an accident because of his carefree lifestyle. That accident came in the form of Daniel Wayne, who was born sometime after Wayne lost his second son, Jason Todd, but before taking in his third son, Timothy Drake.
Wayne refused to explain who Daniel's sire is, only claiming the Alpha wanted nothing to do with the pup. The public was in a frenzy for the months of Wayne's pregnancy, speculating with every Alpha that came anywhere near him.
There were four leading candidates: Wayne's old flame, Harvey Dent, who was recently getting actual treatment for Two-Face and spending time with Wayne as part of his recovery before relapsing and getting taken down by Batman again. The next was Selina Kyle, a frequent on-and-off again girlfriend of the billionaire, who was seen hanging around the man more than usual before the pregnancy was discovered.
Next was a woman few people knew: Talia al Ghul. Although she was a gorgeous Alpha and had more than enough funds to be considered elite, the lack of recognition her name carried made people doubt her chances. The very last candidate theory was kept mostly alive by how dubious and hilarious the public found the theory: A reporter from Metropolis named Clark Kent, who was the least Alpha man to ever actually be an Alpha, and had no funds that would make someone like Wayne look in his direction.
Wayne was a kind soul, slightly dumb, but no one could deny he chose the finer things in life. He gave a lot to charities and fought for equal rights, but he only rubbed elbows with those of his standing, and even then, the Omega was picky about which events to attend and who made it onto his guest lists. It was probably why so many tripped over themselves to impress the Omega, despite some people still grumbling that an Omega shouldn't be at the top like Wayne was.
That aside, it was never confirmed who Daniel's Alpha sire was, and one late morning, the boy was born, with only an omega father on his birth certificate. As time went on, Daniel's parentage faded into obscurity, while he grew under the watchful eye of his father and Omega brother, Richard Grayson, who was officially adopted upon the eldest retrun from Bludhaven sometime during Wayne's third trimester.
Speculation circulated that Wayne only did this to ensure that Grayson would inherit some of the family wealth, as previously, the entire fortune was meant to be Jason Todd's before his desmise That was likely due to Wayne's inability to adopt Grayson, as some laws made it harder to adopt Omega children, in an effort to protect them from those with less-than-kind intentions.
The best Wayne had been able to do was gain the boy through wardship, but now, as adults, Grayson and Wayne made quick work of the adoption through a notary. Following this, Wayne made it clear to every elite in the city that his son would not be participating in Match Balls, even though it was considered the normal way to gain connections with Omega children at the elite level.
A few turned their noses up, whispering that the Waynes felt themselves too good for tradition, but the majority applauded Wayne's decision to protect his son, even if the Omega in question was no longer a child. Wayne himself was controversial. On one hand, he proved that secondary genders had nothing to do with one's ability and importance, building himself up as the most powerful Omega in the city's, if not the country's, history, but on the other, his constant dismissal of traditional secondary gender roles made people seeth (they were ussually of the older generation as those in Wayne's and younger, thought it a great step in the right direction).
Daniel's first year of life was spent with those same people attempting to tear down Wayne, but pointing out the accident and saying this like "See? This is what happens when you let an Omega behave like an Alpha."
Wayne rebutted by posting a photo of his private water park with his baby floating inside an inflatable with the words "He's richer than you'll ever be, and he's not even potty trained."
Needless to say, by the time Daniel Wayne was a toddler, the media storm settled down, and he became another happy bundle of joy. By this point, Timothy Drake was well established as the third son, and things were looking up for the Omega Man and his family.
Then came Daniel's fifth birthday, and everything broke apart. Everyone knows that a child's fifth birthday is a very special occasion. It was the day that the child's secondary gender would be revealed, which was held during a grand party to celebrate.
Everyone was expecting Wayne to go above and beyond for his child, seeing as it was the first one he had who would be having a Reveal under his care. And Wayne did not disappoint.
For an entire year before the boy's Presentation Day, Wayne meticulously planned every little detail. He got permission from the city to close out the park, filling it to the brim with street vendors, performers, and decorations in the various colors of a reveal. Five different firework companies arrived, setting up a display to celebrate Daniel's presentation as soon as it was known, and everyone in the city was invited.
It got so big that the party had to be broken down into five locations. The elites and the Waynes would be celebrating at the manor, where the reveal would take place, while the people of the city could choose between the Robersin Park, two streets of Old Gotham, Gotham's amusement deck, and Gotham's harbor to celebrate.
A few of the older generation joked that it was like Gotham's aristocratic festivals, where Lords of the land would allow the common folk to celebrate as an extension of the nobles' own parties.
Wayne encouraged everyone to wear the color they believed Daniel would be. Like pink for girls and blue for boys during the birth gender reveal, a presentation reveal also has certain colors.
Lavender for omegas, Mint for betas, and cream for Alphas. Each firework show had the three colors on standby, for whatever the presentation was. The entire city was covered in the three colors up to then, and most workplaces closed early for the event.
Even the Waynes were in colored suits. Bruce Wayne was in a lavender suit, alongside his butler, but Dick Grayson was wearing cream, and Timothy was wearing mint. The Waynes all made jokes about it, based on a different memory with Daniel. People outside the Waynes' started jokingly placing bets, and that grew into a fairly large pot, where everyone was biting their nails waiting for the announcement.
Daniel spent his birthday running around with the kids, dressed in white, who he would change into different colored outfits the moment his presentation revealed. He had go-carts installed around the manor and spent most of his time flying around with a group of laughing children. He didn't seem to care much about his party, but it was blamed on his age.
The family butler had to chase him down to clean him up multiple times since Daniel seemed to enjoy rolling around the grass and letting the wind blow through his hair. Some of the elites thought it unsightly, but their children were ecstatic.
It was one of the first parties that didn't feel like a miniature gala but an actual party for their ages.
Then the Presentation began. As Daniel stood in the center of the circle, listening to Wayne read from the family presentation book, he remained still as water was poured over his head and down his neck. Everyone held their breath as they waited for the boy's body to naturally let out the Scent of his presentation, but when nothing happened, Wayne tried again.
Then again. And then he actually dunked the by into the family water stream, but still nothing.
People muttered, a wave of confusion fell through the entire city- Wayne had been streaming live, and people were gathered around TVs with their betting tickets at the ready. Wayne seemed conflicted, whispering with his two other sons, obviously as confused. Suddenly, the sky ripped open, and a floating man in purple emerged, carrying a time staff that glowed blue.
A proud smile on his face, as a pink-wrapped gift floated behind him.
Wayne let out a cry, pointing at the figure with outrage, "You! What are you doing here?!"
"I came for my son's presentation Day. I'm not sure why you insisted on throwing a party. Danny does not have a secondary gender."
"He's not supposed to have one until today," Wayne gritted through clenched teeth, "Which you would know if you ever bothered to come by after running out on me-"
"He's not a full human. And you know, I can not be in this plane of existence for long hours. Not that it means anything to you, but some of us exist in different timelines."
"How dare you-"
And that's the story of how Daniel Wayne became the first known born human- or half human half ghost??- that didn't have a secondary gender. He was also the child of the concept of time and the richest man in the country.
Internship took everything that I have, my blood my sweat and my soul…
I’m not being paid and Ive spent more than what is the salary is….
If you managed to understand what is my future caeer/ profession in the future is then you’ll know that we are so underappreciated that we use our own salary to make sure our job happen.
It’s a rewarding and thankless job.
…
People in the DC universe specifically the Justice League Dark didn’t say it out loud, but everyone in the Justice League noticed the same thing. The magic users were built. Not just “fit,” but “why do you look like you wrestle demons for cardio” built. Nobody complained. Hal Jordan asked once and immediately regretted it when John Constantine started explaining what “practical experience”with way too much detail and not enough legal boundaries.
It wasn’t the spells. It wasn’t the magic. It was the greetings.
Every supernatural being had its own way of saying hello, and getting it wrong never ended well. Sometimes it meant offense. Sometimes it meant a fight. Sometimes it meant something worse that nobody wanted to explain in front of Batman. The point was simple if you wanted to survive the magical side of of this universe, you had to greet properly.
Zatanna learned that the hard way when greeting a kitsune required a full-body movement that used every joint she had. She got it right eventually. The first time, she didn’t. The kitsune’s reaction changed instantly, and then there was a second presence behind it that was very clearly not happy. She left faster than she arrived and refused to talk about why she couldn’t look at foxes for a week.
Doctor Fate had a different problem. The Helmet insisted on perfect form when greeting the royal court of the fae. The Helmet did not care that the current body wearing it had limits. The result was a greeting that started fine, went wrong halfway, and turned into a full recovery attempt that took so much effort that Fate disappeared for a week. When Barry Allen, the Flash asked what happened, Fate said he needed to “recover magical energy” and left before Flash could ask anything else.
Constantine handled things his own way, which usually meant surviving out of spite. Over time, all of them learned the same thing. Muscles, that he developed during his previous relationships from various species and kind, helped.
A lot.
Then came the Infinite Realms.
Only the higher-ranked members of the Justice League Dark knew it existed, and even fewer actually understood how it worked.
Ghosts didn’t bow. They didn’t chant. They didn’t dance.
They fought.
A normal ghost needed ten minutes. Stronger ones needed longer. Nobles took hours. The higher the rank, the longer the fight. And it wasn’t just about fighting.
It was about intent. No hesitation. No annoyance. No getting tired. If the ghost felt even a hint of insincerity, the greeting turned into a real fight instantly.
That was why the Justice League Dark looked like they trained with mountains.
Then the Guys in White commonly GIW messed up. Nothing new here, but only this time they were caught in the act by someone in the JL
The Justice League handled them quickly. Bases destroyed. Ghosts freed. Problem solved.
Then a portal opened.
A floating eye with a scroll showed up and announced that the High King Phantom, the King of the Damned, the Keeper of Balance, the one who holds the line between life and death wanted a meeting.
It also made it explained that the council of the High King was ready for war and this was the only chance to avoid it.
Everyone panicked.
Every government paid attention. Every hero got involved. Batman handled planning, Wonder Woman handled diplomacy, and Superman handled being the face of the whole thing.
Meanwhile, the Justice League Dark tried to explain one very important detail.
They needed to fight the King first.
Heroes that were assigned to ecurity heard something else.
They got restrained.
Constantine didn’t even argue. Zatanna tried. Shazam looked confused. Doctor Fate just stood there like he already knew this would happen. All four were locked away before the meeting even started.
The day came.
The portal opened.
The High King stepped through with his group. Ancient beings followed all huge, strange, and definitely not something anyone wanted
They sat.
Humanity’s final olive branch had started.
Wonder Woman spoke first, calm and steady. The representatives followed. Everything sounded right.
Polite. Careful. No mistakes.
Or else they’ll be cut off.
…
Batman noticed it first.
The longer the meeting went on, the worse it got. The High King’s group looked like they were slowly getting annoyed. Not angry yet, just that “why is this still not starting properly” kind of tension. The kind of tension you feel when someone is clearly waiting for the correct greeting and nobody is doing it right.
One of them looked like a yeti who lost patience. Another looked like a floating eyeball that was one blink away from screaming.
Batman didn’t like that.
On the human side, Wonder Woman and the diplomats were doing everything right. Calm voices. Respectful words. No mistakes. Perfect diplomacy.
But it wasn’t working.
The air still felt wrong.
Like both sides were waiting for something that never came.
Batman realized it at the same time his headache started.
This is going to go bad.
Right then.
A portal opened in front of the High King.
Shazam came out like a lightning missile.
Punch aimed straight at the King.
No warning.
Just impact.
Everything exploded.
Zatanna and John Constantine appeared right after and immediately started fighting the King’s group.
From Batman’s view, it looked insane.
Zatanna was going full power, but the ghost group barely looked serious. Like they were just… moving aside kids throwing toys.
Constantine was swearing while throwing spells like his life depended on it, which it probably did.
On the other side, Shazam was going all out against the High King himself.
And the High King?
Calm.
Too calm.
Like this was something that had been expected.
Doctor Fate was in the middle of it too, clashing with the strongest of them, both sides pushing hard, neither backing down.
Superman and Batman tried to stop it.
They failed immediately.
Wonder Woman tried to intercept Zatanna.
Got dodged.
Superman tried to grab Shazam mid-air.
Missed.
Batman tried to step between Constantine and a ghost general.
Got ignored completely.
Nobody was listening anymore.
Just fighting.
It lasted three minutes.
That’s all.
Three minutes of chaos.
Then suddenly—
It stopped.
Everyone slowed down at the same time.
Like someone turned the volume down on reality.
The King’s group relaxed first.
Not angry anymore.
Not tense.
Just… fine.
Just what’s going on…
…
Danny Fenton had not slept properly in a week.
First: he got crowned King.
Second: immediately got thrown into lessons about “responsibility of balance between life and death.”
Third: diplomacy training.
No break and No rest.
And worst of all?
He got to know that all his years as Phantom, he kept misunderstanding his former rogues, he owes so many sorry gift baskets.
They were brawls.
But not random fights.
Proper fights.
Respectful fights.
A greeting meant proving intent. No hesitation. No fake emotion. No boredom. If you were tired, it was insult. If you were annoyed, it was insult. If you were polite but weak, still insult.
So Danny had been waiting all day for the “first hit.”
Because that was the signal.
That was hello.
Instead?
A diplomatic meeting.
Talking.
Talking.
More talking.
He was slowly dying inside.
Behind him, before the diplomacy even started his entire council that used to shout at each other during their monthly meeting just because they couldn’t agree whether they have blur or green curtain for his castle, suddenly began insisting on “proper tradition.”
Clockwork kept saying patience was important.
Fright Knight kept his hand on his sword that literally could send someone in the literal realm of nightmare.
Frostbite just wanted everyone to properly great the Great One properly.
Pandora is contemplating in opening the box and let the humans catch it.
Even the two observers that he brought were getting restless.
Especially Jerry, was vibrating in anger.
Even though Jerry has the highest voice and always ranting about the brat aka ME aka Danny the ghost child managed to be crowned King.
Danny was ready to consider the earlier handshake as a greeting. But no, everyone wanted to do it in the proper way.
Because how dare the humans not understand proper greeting etiquette for a king.
Danny was tired.
So tired.
Then it happened.
A fist came through a portal.
Finally.
Danny’s whole body relaxed instantly.
Because finally..
Someone threw the first punch.
…
PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
PPS: As you can see im a bit rusty, gimme a break you guys :(
Bruce has a rising urge to throw a chair through a wall. It doubled with every stupidly airy giggle that he could hear from the open window. Bruce's grip on his pen tightened to the point it cracked, making a few drips of ink run down his fingers and onto his paperwork. He stared at the stain, feeling his sense of sanity slowly slipping away.
He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to count backwards from ten without giving in to the anger. He's on six when his office door gets kicked open, and his very thin string of sanity snaps.
He swings his glare to the doorway where his eldest's foot is still raised for its kick. He must be losing his touch since Dick didn't even twitch at the displeasure on Bruce's face.
"Hi Bruce!" Dick chirps, carrying in a lawnchair in one arm and a bucket of popcorn in the other. "Don't mind us. We're just going to borrow your window."
"Us?" He asks between clenched teeth.
"Yeah! Us!" Dick moves into the room with a spring in his step. Behind him, all of the rest of Bruce's children file in. Each carrying their own lawn chair, with various snacks. "We watch to watch Alfred and his boyfriend."
"Don't. Call. That. Worm. Alfred's. Boyfriend" Bruce grunts, blood veins thumping from the barely controlled rage. His children ignored him as they set up around their viewing stations, each justling each other for a better view. Bruce would have been happy if his children had wanted to be in the same room for hours on end, but if not, they could spy on Alfred.
In all the years that Bruce had known the British man, the other always refused to cross the fine line between employee and father figure, despite Bruce seeing him as a father figure. This means that he never used any of the Wayne facilities that weren't meant for servants.
That is, until today, when Alfred had asked if he and his boyfriend could use the pool. Bruce felt like the other man had slapped him with a live fish, then asked him to clean its scales. Bruce didn't want to look, but Steph made a heartfelt "aw" sound that dragged on longer than it should have.
It piqued his interest, and unfortunately, Bruce was never one to leave a mystery alone. Against his will, he found himself rising from his desk. He walked up behind Tim and Jason, ignoring the crunch of Tim's spicy chips and the smell of Jason's three-chili cheese dogs. Over their shoulders, he had a clear view downwards of the pool where two figures were floating in the center.
Down below, Danny Fenton giggled again after splashing Alfred, swimming around the older man to get him from all angles. Alfred was rooted in spot, staring into the distance as water covered him. Bruce almost thought he wasn't enjoying himself- not a surprise since Alfred hated it when someone splashed- but he turned at the last second when Danny leaned in to whisper into his ear.
The two were pressed super close, and then they kissed.
"Yeah!" Tim shouted, pumping a fist into the air like he was watching his favorite team score a point during the finals, "Go Alfred!"
"Get some!" Steph shouted in equal glee. "Get some of that good-looking little tw-"
"Stephine, please!" Bruce cut in, feeling his stomach turn. He didn't have a problem with Alfred dating; in fact, he had often tried to get the man to go out and meet someone, but he wasn't okay with Alfred being with that man.
Not only was he the same age as Bruce, but his attitude was much to be desired. Often, the man would try to be a step-parent to Bruce, talking to him like Bruce was an eight-year-old child instead of a man of thirty-six. He mostly addressed the antics that Bruce Wayne was known for, which was somewhat fair, but why did Fenton think he had the right?
"Honestly, they brought back my faith in love," Duke said to Cass. He takes a sip of his smoothie while the girl nods around her grapes. "I mean, if Alfred can find the one at his age, then there is hope for me-"
"Fenotn is not Alfred's one. If anything, he's just a leech trying to take all of Alfred's money."
"That's false. Fenotn has more money then Alfred, Father." Damian spoke up, green eyes glancing up and down between the drawing he was making of the- ugh- couple. "In fact, he's richer than you, Father. Not that it's too hard to be richer than you, after all, you have a rather humble home."
Bruce ignores the snipe about his wealth. Damian still believed that, compared to his mother, Bruce was rather poor, and nothing could convince him otherwise. If the other elites of Gotham heard him talking, they would have heart attacks from offense. If Bruce was poor in the boy's eyes, they were just sad.
"Then he's just playing with Alfred!" Bruce hisses, which causes Jason to snort a laugh. He swings his eyes down to his second-oldest as the other young man shakes his head.
"He literally was talking about their wedding the other day. If anything, I think he's desperate to be married."
Bruce opens his mouth to hiss out an insult when Fenotn lets out a whoop of joy. He glanced down just in time to see Alfred swing the man up and then jump into the deep end with Fenton in his arms, laughing loudly. The two swim around in circles for a bit, looking to be having the time of their lives, and suddenly Bruce feels as if his no-killing rule should have exceptions.
Especially when Fenton glances up, and their eyes meet. The disgusting man sends him a wink, as if mocking him, and Bruce's fist punches the window without thought.
"Hey!" Dick complains. "Stop smashing things. My show is on!"
Danny: I forgot to do a entire module for my class this week.
Tucker: What?
Danny: I ussually do them on the weekend since I'm so busy and the professor wants the assignments turned in on Friday at 6:00 PM. But this week really kicked my ass, and I completely forgot to stay a week ahead. What do I do?!
Tucker: How many assignments were in this module?
Danny: Five. The zeros are already in. I went from a 98 to a 63.
Tucker: *pain hiss through teeth* Okay it's time to send a really pathetic, really desperate, and professional email begging for a extension.
Danny: You don't understand! Professor Todd will never go for it. He's strict as hell. Nothing I could say would be believable!
Tucker: Nothing? Not even say, a near death experience?
Danny: What?
Five hours later
Steph: Thanks for bring me dinner Jason. The ER has been non stop and I haven't even gotten a chance to get a break
Jason: No problem, I was just going to do some grading today anyway.
Steph: It was really sweet of you to bring the other nurses some food too. I'm pretty sure almost all the nurse station is in love with you.
Jason: Well shit, get some numbers. You never know. You're future in-law could be on payroll with you. ;)
Steph: Ha ha nice try. That is more stress then its worth. You're like that college kid, desperately trying to write five essays between codes.
Jason: Damn! He coded!? What kind of professor doesn't offer an extension in the face of that? Those deadlines can not be that serious.
Steph: Yeah. Its-
Danny walking by in a hospital gown using speech to text: Hello Professor Todd, I hope this email finds you well. I apologize to ask for this but would it be possible to get a extension on Module 4? Im in the hospital and I have apparently died four times but I am working on those essays between each-
Steph: That was him
Jason: He died four times?!
Steph: Yeah but we got him back-
Random nurse: CODE! CODE IN ROOM 209!
Steph: Damn it! He has got to stop working on those stupid essays! The stress is messing with his heart!
Jason: HE'S DYING RIGHT NOW?!TELL HIM HE HAS HIS EXTENSION, TELL HIM PROFESSOR TODD IS COOL WITH IT.
I saw that there is so many fics about Danny having a relationship with any of the batfam but I noticed that there is so much lacking on Dick like come on great puns personalities that you know can compliment each other…
So here’s my take on the two.
…
The first time they met happened in a hospital near Amity Park.
Dick Grayson did not wake up knowing who he was.
He opened his eyes to white lights and unfamiliar sounds, his head heavy and aching. The room felt wrong, like it belonged to someone else. When nurses asked him his name, nothing came. Not a single memory followed the question. His mind was empty. He did not remember Gotham. He did not remember the circus. He did not remember being Robin or Nightwing. He did not even remember what it felt like to be himself.
After days of confusion, fear, and quiet panic, he chose a name.
He called himself Ric.
Danny Fenton was not meant to be part of that moment. He was only visiting his sister Jazz, who had stayed late at the hospital to help with paperwork and volunteer work.
Amity Park had changed after the ghost activity slowed down. The town had learned how to survive strange things together. People watched out for each other more. They noticed when someone did not belong.
Danny noticed Ric.
Ric looked lost in a way Danny understood deeply. He was awake, alert, and polite, but there was something missing behind his eyes. Danny had seen that look in people who had been hurt beyond what the body could show.
Amity Park did not turn Ric away.
The town helped him adjust. Someone found him a small place to stay. Someone else helped him get a simple job. Others helped him learn how to live again without memories guiding him. They did not ask too many questions. They accepted that he was someone new trying to exist.
Danny stayed.
He helped Ric learn routines. He helped him remember small things, like how to grocery shop, how to take the bus, how to sit with the fear that came at night when the past refused to return. Ric trusted him completely. Danny became the steady point in a life that had no history.
Over time, care became love.
It was quiet and gentle. Ric loved Danny for who he was now, not for a past he could not remember. Danny loved Ric without knowing who he had once been, only who he chose to be every day. There were no masks between them. No secrets about identity or expectations.
Danny kept his ghost past hidden. He had learned how to do that long ago. Ric never questioned the strange moments, the odd timing, the way Danny always came back unharmed from things that should have been dangerous. He accepted Danny as he was.
Danny was transgender, something Ric never questioned. To Ric, Danny was simply Danny. There was no confusion, no doubt, no hesitation. They built a life together that felt safe and real.
When they chose to become parents, Danny with their two children who should not have survived. Ric loved them the moment he had held the twins for the first time underneath the hospital lights.
Their names were Dante Corvus Fenton and Eleanor Dawn Fenton.
The twins grew up surrounded by warmth.
They married quietly. There was no church, no flowers, no grand plans. Money was tight, and their life was simple. They stood before a crowd of witnesses instead. Vlad was there, no longer an enemy but something close to family. Jack and Maddie stood proudly beside Danny. Jazz, Sam, and Tucker watched with soft smiles. Old classmates attended. Lancer showed up, strangely emotional.
Ric promised Danny that one day, he would give him a wedding worthy of him.
For a while, life was peaceful.
But amnesia never truly lets go.
Ric felt the questions growing inside him. He knew there was something missing. He loved Danny and the twins deeply, but the hunger to know who he had been before never faded. The past felt like a shadow following him everywhere.
After the twins’ third birthday, Ric chose to search for his past.
He promised Danny he would come back.
Danny supported him. He knew what this meant. They had spoken about it during long, quiet nights. Danny understood that some questions could not be ignored forever.
Ric left Amity Park.
When his memories returned, they returned all at once.
Gotham came back to him in pieces that hurt. Batman. The circus. Robin. Nightwing. Loss. Responsibility. Pain. He remembered everything except the years he had lived as Ric.
Those memories were gone.
Dick Grayson knew he had lost time. He knew there had been a life he could not reach.
But Danny, the marriage, the twins for him none of it existed in his memory.
He stayed in Gotham.
…
Danny waited.
The first year was the hardest. Danny told himself it was normal. Finding memories took time. Healing took time. He kept the window clean. He checked the mail more often than he needed to. Every sound outside made his heart jump.
The second year hurt differently. Danny stopped setting an extra plate at the table. He stopped leaving the light on at night. He still waited, but quietly now, like waiting was something fragile that could break if spoken aloud.
By the third year, people around him began to worry. Vlad told him to move on. Jack and Maddie tried to distract him. Jazz gently reminded him that their so called marriage was not legal in any sense, and Ric had abandoned them.
Danny did not stop waiting.
Each year hurt in its own way. Anniversaries came and went. The twins grew taller. Danny aged slowly, his ghost side stretching time in cruel ways. He watched himself change while the man he loved stayed frozen in his memories and photos they took smiling wildly to each other.
Dan and Ellie grew up watching this.
Dan grew angry. He saw Danny, his mom always waiting by the window year after year. He saw the quiet heartbreak. To him, the man who left was a deadbeat who chose another life.
Ellie grew thoughtful. She saw the pain but also the love that never faded.
When they reached adulthood, they told Danny they wanted a vacation before finishing university. Danny supported them fully.
There they are traveling all over the world looking for their father they only saw through the photos around the house. Both Dan and Ellie knew that finding their othe rparent is both low, but with a the Ancient of Time guiding them and Vlad’s own financial support they found themselves in Gotham.
…
In Gotham, Dick Grayson lived a full life on the surface.
He was no longer young. He stood in his late thirties, edging into his early forties, with faint gray beginning to show at his temples and threads of silver cutting through his dark hair. His body still moved with the grace of a trained fighter, but it carried old injuries now. His joints ached in the cold. His reflexes were sharp, but slower than they used to be. The city knew him as a veteran, someone who had been around long enough to see generations rise and fall.
He dated. He tried. Heroes, vigilantes, civilians, even villains who walked the thin line between good and bad. None of it lasted. No matter how kind or passionate the connection began, something always felt wrong. There was a hollow space he could never fill, a sense that something important had been left behind. Every relationship ended the same way, quietly, with an emptiness he had learned to expect.
His family found happiness around him.
Jason settled down with Roy and Liam. Bruce married Selina, something Dick once thought impossible. Tim built a steady future with Conner and Bernard. Cassandra and Stephanie stood strong together. Damian found love with a French girl with midnight blue hair and bright blue eyes.
Dick watched them with real happiness, but also with a weight in his chest that never left. He could feel the years catching up to him. He saw it in the mirror each morning, in the lines near his eyes, in the gray that refused to fade. He had spent his life moving forward, yet something in him remained unfinished.
Dick felt old.
He felt alone.
One evening, as he stepped out of a small store he often visited when the loneliness felt heavier than usual, a stranger rushed toward him. The punch came without warning. Pain burst across his jaw as he hit the ground, his vision blurring while a dark bruise began to form beneath his eye.
The attacker was restrained and arrested quickly.
Nearby stood another young adult who looked almost exactly like him, the resemblance impossible to ignore.
Across years of silence and waiting, they finally found him.
…
PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
PPS: Im backkkkk!!!!! And im gonna disappear again, I am so… swamped with college and then work im going to start posting very rarely
prguitarman
ellievsbear
gracieabrams
stormborns
origamiaround
amandla
2087
